Day 2 update and a confession

It feels a bit magical so far, Novel Writing Month.

It seems that God is for it and I am being beckoned in by Him.

My school approved this month off.  Brett's parents are in town this week and have had the kids.  And I'm even here for a brief moment because I went over the word count goal yesterday!  5 pages of a brand new story has unfolded and I'm excited to see what comes!

One confession here:  Although I'm enjoying all the writing time I'm also missing the children.  They've been spending the night away - all of them- and being only a writer and not a mom would be sad and lonely, I've discovered.

Hand-picked

One thing I am exceedingly grateful for in my life, one thing I come back to again and again, is friendship.  The special friendships God has allowed me to cultivate.

And how He uses these friends to speak to my heart, to impart joy and wisdom.  To aid me in revelations.

This morning I was praying hard, under heaviness and a dear friend called and through our conversation my spirits were lifted and my walk refreshed.

I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord.

I love knowing that God has hand-picked for me women who compliment me.

 I am blessed beyond words in this area.

Stories

I hold inside myself stories untold.

The happenings thus far, simply characters and setting but the plot continues to unfold.

I have just figured this out.

What I have previously believed to be a story are merely chapters in the great novel of my life.  And though I will never right the next Great American Novel, my life will be my own version of this, as will yours.

Because I only have one life to live.  The thought following that is, "so you better get it right".  But I won't.  There will be things I miss, things I add which should have been left out.  The important thing is that I remember that I'm actually not the author.  He is.  I'll let him weave the words, create the climaxes and enter the hero because what I could put down would be not only unworthy of market but tragic.

So, I'll live each day on the page I'm at.  I can't peek ahead and I can't erase what's come.  I just trust.  Trust that He is the best storyteller who's ever been and He's writing mine.

Caught

I am caught, I am loved



Caught:
I was caught when I was young.  And caught still today.  I am so grateful that I am His and He is mine.  To know this God of love, to live forever in the embrace of a father, so good.  
When I am caught in endless worries, pervasive thoughts, it is Him who calms.  
He is the great pursuer of my soul and when I long to feel loved, special, I listen, quiet long enough to sense the wooing.
The dance we do, the songs He sings over me while I sleep, the angels sent to protect while I slumber, it is all so good.  
I've been caught up in webs of others, caught up in self-destruction but where I long to stay is in His protection.  To know without a doubt, He'll catch me when I fall, to be caught up in His love for me, caught up in my alone time with Him. 

Source: dayspring.com via Nicole on Pinterest

Source: dayspring.com via Nicole on Pinterest

weekend reflection, flowers on saturday, 

Comfort

"For You, Lord, have helped me and comforted me." Psalm 86:17

The air is chilling early and I'm not ready to say goodbye to summer.

 Home at long last and I feel betrayed by the sudden turn of weather.  The warmth has comforted me for so many days and how I wished for it when I was away.

 But seasons change in atmosphere and life and I cannot live nostalgic always for last week.

So, remembering that He was faithful to bring me back,  I find comfort in a cozy sweater, hot coffee, immersion in a steaming bath.  I allow God to bring to mind that His mercies are new every morning, His peace is for each day, His warmth available every moment.  In the crazy, cold times of life, wind howling with my soul, I recall that He gave me a sound mind.  That it is His unfailing love which cheers, that He comforts those who mourn, that grieving is painful but God's presence alleviates.  Yes, the flood of verses, memorized, He presents me in time of need and chill.  And always there is relief in grace.

Submitting at Sepia Scenes and




















"/>

Busy

"Humanity will always love Rousseau for having confessed his sins, not to a priest, but to the world...."
-Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

John-Jacques Rousseau, not Henri Rousseau.  I had to clear that up for myself so thought I'd clarify.

This is a quote from a piece I had to read as part of my homework this week.  I thought it fit aptly in my blog.  And sadly, I will not have a lot of blogging time this week.  My instructor for this class is asking for two papers a week now and Mayo Clinic is under the impression that I'd like to spend multiple full days at their facility.  So....a lot of un-fun stuff.  But I'll at least check in daily.

What I'm Excited About

I'm super excited about something today.

 A while ago I had an idea for another blog.  I haven't written over there as much as I would have liked but over the weeks the idea has evolved.  I've really wanted to include reader participation.  But in a different way than is usual.  I've avoided a blog roll because I wanted more to feature other's thoughts, allow them to be read by all.  I envision it as a sort of meeting online.

Definition of meeting:  Voluntary fellowship of people suffering from alcoholism who seek to become and stay sober through mutual self-help by meeting in local, independent groups to share their common experience. Anonymity, confidentiality, and understanding of alcoholism as a disease free members to speak frankly. Many consider AA to be the most successful method of coping with alcoholism; participation raises the chances of success of other treatments. Its 12 steps to recovery include acknowledgment of the problem, faith in a "higher power" as understood by each individual, self-examination, and a desire to change for the better and to help others recover. Begun in 1935 by two alcoholics, AA has grown to some 2 million members worldwide. Similar organizations for abusers of other substances and for habitual gamblers and debtors are based on its principles.

Read more: http://www.answers.com/topic/alcoholics-anonymous#ixzz1YiIcYNUX


-Answers.com


I wanted to do this in regards not to alcoholism but in regards to the human ailment of self.  For anyone who struggled in any sense.  For anyone who felt the need for freedom.  


I've probably lost some of you by now, but please bear with me.  


I wanted an entire space to do this so I chose the avenue of another blog.  I wanted it to focus on the idea of recovery from self-will, selfishness, addictions of any sort (be it addiction to food, cleaning, the Internet, whatever).  The idea was that we are all the same in this one way.  That the world would be such a better place if we could consider others above ourselves.  If we could work on seeing things from other's point of view with love and compassion.  This is hard to do because we, of course, see everything in relation to self.  That's natural.  But if we don't at least work on it, this quality we share can easily get out of hand and destroy relationships.  


So, I started the blog.  But then I didn't know how to go about accomplishing what it was I wanted to accomplish.  It was all very imperfect - still is.  


But if you're still with me, I want to share my heart with you a little (if you care) and tell you what I see.  I see a space (the blog) where humans (all) can come and share.  So then the blog roll doesn't work because I want everyone's voice to be heard. 


 I don't want to necessarily give a topic on any certain day because I want it to be more open than that.  I began by offering my email but realized that I probably wouldn't take anybody up on such an offer for two reasons.  One, I would just feel strange and two, my writing time is valuable.  If I write for someone else will that then take away my own blog time?  So, what I want to propose is that people can write what they want, let me know if they want (or will allow) me to feature it on Self Anonymous and they can still feature it, of course, on their own blog.  I just don't have the logistics figured out.  I don't know how to add a linky (?) even. 


 Another problem I found was when I was reading through it to give my step-daughter a better idea of what I was looking for, I realized there's so much about God.  Okay, that's not exactly a problem.  I can't change my writing or the fact that God infuses into everything about me but I do want the space to be open to anyone regardless of faith or lack of faith.  I do not want it to be exclusive.  I don't want people to think they have to talk about God just because I do.  So another idea I'm toying with is having a list of topics and people can choose based on what's on their heart at any given time.  A good place to start would be with the 12 principles.

Goodness, I hope  I'm not boring everyone to death.  I'm not too good with words of explanation.

I'm sharing this because it's so on my heart, I'd love to see a version of this idea come to fruition, I wanted to lead you to Megan words today  and I thought this might be the best place to begin with( my readers here).

Did that make a lick of sense?  Maybe Bill Wilson summed it up better when he said,

 "The wise have always known that no one can make much of his life until self-searching becomes a regular habit, until he is able to admit and accept what he finds, and until he patiently and persistently tries to correct what is wrong.  -Twelve and Twelve, p. 88

Ok, so onto my excitement (if anyone's still left).  I told you how my step-daughter came over the other night and how I so enjoyed her company.  In the midst of our conversation, I told her about Self Anonymous.  And then I gave her a writing assignment.  Because I can.  I (jokingly) told her it was due Friday.  I was hoping she'd do it.  She really was in no way obligated to.  And sweet, loving heart that she is, she did it!  She wrote a piece for me on humility (which is what I assigned her when she asked for me to please be more specific) and it's brilliant what came out of this twenty-one year old.  I'd be honored if you'd read her thoughts over here.


Submitting at:

Here

I am here but elsewhere.

It is Wednesday night but I will post tomorrow.  I am in a hotel room.  My wonderful husband read my last blog, the sentence about how I wanted oh, a weeks vacation and this is what he did.  Booked me a room.  A room of one's own, I have right now.  And it's almost nine o'clock and I am just now able to process any sort of coherent share-able thought.  This whole deal was last minute.  He told me and I packed and came.  And then sort-of freaked.  I brought every writing notebook I own and my drawing paper and my laptop and my homework (which I did first) and then I had somewhat of a silent neurasthenia.  I don't know what I was expecting.  Maybe a breakthrough, but not a breakdown.  I felt this maniacal idea bobbing over me that I had to heal.  Right now.  Today.  Get it all out.  It was going to be dramatic.  God was going to send me into tears and then lift me up with secrets of my future...or something like that.  I was also going to finish my novel.

Suffice it to say, none of that happened.  Really, I just tried to ignore the horrible aching of homesickness and rationalize my fear of leaving the room to go to the pool, while begging God to show me whatever it was He wanted me to see.  Finally, I gave up and listened to music and drew and I think I did hear a bit of what I was supposed to.  And then I called up my old roommate and talked through some of the craziness and it helped.

"...good communication is stimulating as black coffee...."-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

So here I am.  Here.  Wherever.  But here.  And I think the freak out was good.  Because I realized that, while maybe there's a part of me that's a contemplative, that craves this alone time, the bigger part of me is now so deeply tied to my husband and my children and my home and the routine.  Perhaps the creative is nourished better even when I'm allowed to slip away throughout the day to blog, or write in my notebook but with space and time galore I sink a little under it all.  Lindbergh also wrote, "Reeling a little from our intense absorption, we come back with relief to the small chores...as if they were lifelines to reality-as if we had indeed almost drowned in the sea of intellectual work and welcomed the firm ground of physical action under our feet."  Maybe I need the chores, the physicality to experience the soft touches of the deep.

I am seeing things I've never seen before.  I am still on the cusp but I don't necessarily have to dive head first into it all.  Maybe just to announce that I am healing is healing.  I can set aside the notions I've had of facing things head on.  God's got it covered.  It will be revealed in His timing....if it needs to be.

Ravishing

Perfect, pink, pretty.
Imperfect, purple (her true favorite color), pouty.

This, my third child, my second girl, stunning and serious soul.  She, the one who has most challenged me.  Daily, her charm astounds me.  Daily, she perplexes me.

To be a mother is to know this unconditional love, to love through imperfections, to see imperfections but still ravishing beauty.

This child was the one who had me at the keyboard, googling autism because she at first wouldn't smile, then wouldn't laugh.  She was late to walk.  She was not much for cuddling.

Today, we snuggle and she loves abundantly my heart as I do hers.  She laughs loudly at times but still rarely. She's just not as easily amused as the rest of us.  Watching Mr. Popper's Penguins she didn't understand why the audience would chortle when 'Nimrod' bumped into a wall.  "He's a cute penguin, Mommy," she said sadly.

This is my child who scares me to death when she talks of Heaven because she can't wait until she 'gets' to go there.  I tell her that this won't be for a very, very long time.

She is fearless in many ways too and at only four seems to have a faith I don't.

Imperfect?  We all are.  But she's perfect to me.


Submitting at Wonderland  and with Imperfect Prose