when the phone rings before six in the morning it means there has been an accident or tragedy of some kind
today the 'tragedy' was snow
snow...
on the ground...
in tennessee...
not unheard of, but not usual enough to be familiar & so things slow to a halt as we all stare at the beauty falling around us
& wait for the call
the ringing phone brings a cheery (all too cheery for the hour) message of the laughable (to the mrs.) school cancelation
that inevitably occurs when anyone on the news (weather professional or not)
dares to predict
snow
even the slightest possibility...
need she remind you that this place is not her home? (in the spiritual sense & the literal sense for which she now refers) even if it's comfortable now, it is not her home.
home is cattle & corn - as far as the eye can see
where winters draw on forever & snow covers everything
with wind so sharp & bitter it's sting stays vivid in memory
& where school is on - no matter the weather
& even if the mrs. will never understand how
two powdery inches of snow
(that will be gone by the days end)
can amount to the need to close school
she is learning to embrace & enjoy it
a little white house with a red front door. you know the one - you've driven by it a million times. this is the story of the family that lives inside. and, hey, the next time you drive by - give us a honk and a wave... everyone else already does.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Thursday, January 31, 2013
forgiveness & mercy
as the mrs. sat sipping her first cup of coffee this morning, she was acutely aware of all the things that would still be begging for her attention tomorrow
(the laundry
mounded up in the
newly acquired pampasan chair
will not get folded in a timely manner
the bed probably wont get made, or even straightened
toys will remain scattered about the floor
patiently waiting for the next
barefooted victim
ouch)
today's "to-do" list is short
not because her house is almost clean,
or because the mrs. found an amazing project on pinterest,
or there is an appointment of some kind to go to...
but because her life depends on it, her freedom depends on it
the mrs. is determined to let go of the guilt that holds her back, keeps her from
living the life god so desires for her... a life free in christ, because of his loving sacrifice for her!
the mrs. will accept the forgiveness and mercy that god gives abundantly and wants all of his children to receive
abandoning her freshly poured, second cup of coffee
quietly she retreats to her favorite spot, a corner chair
bathed in precious sunlight
she curls up
her eyes close
envisioning herself in a large dark room
a warehouse, probably
every movement's noise amplified by the complete emptiness of the space
in her hands the mrs. cups her guilt, her pain, her fears
things never spoken of
because who would know where to begin
tears flowing, the ugly truth pouring out of a broken woman
she makes her envisioned self move forward
her form is indistinguishable in the dark that has swallowed her
the time it takes to reach her destination is an eternity
she has traveled miles in this room
finally
greeted at the throne
with acceptance
warmth of glowing innocence
outstretched arms
a face that she can not bring her eyes to look upon
she falls to her knees
the weight of her burdened hands, burdened soul
suddenly, forcefully overwhelms her, repulses her
she releases her burden at his feet
she sobs mournfully at its impurity
relief washes over her
exhausted from emotion
covered in peace
she falls asleep...
the honk of a passing car is enough to wake the mrs. still curled in her chair
although she is certain she has been there for hours, the second hand on her clock insists
only fifteen minutes have passed since she made her retreat.
her head is clearer than it has been in awhile - her soul is lighter than it has ever been...
free actually
this is the first time she has accepted this gift & experienced true freedom
she closes her eyes once again & whispers "thank you Lord"
(the laundry
mounded up in the
newly acquired pampasan chair
will not get folded in a timely manner
the bed probably wont get made, or even straightened
toys will remain scattered about the floor
patiently waiting for the next
barefooted victim
ouch)
today's "to-do" list is short
not because her house is almost clean,
or because the mrs. found an amazing project on pinterest,
or there is an appointment of some kind to go to...
but because her life depends on it, her freedom depends on it
the mrs. is determined to let go of the guilt that holds her back, keeps her from
living the life god so desires for her... a life free in christ, because of his loving sacrifice for her!
the mrs. will accept the forgiveness and mercy that god gives abundantly and wants all of his children to receive
abandoning her freshly poured, second cup of coffee
quietly she retreats to her favorite spot, a corner chair
bathed in precious sunlight
she curls up
her eyes close
envisioning herself in a large dark room
a warehouse, probably
every movement's noise amplified by the complete emptiness of the space
in her hands the mrs. cups her guilt, her pain, her fears
things never spoken of
because who would know where to begin
tears flowing, the ugly truth pouring out of a broken woman
she makes her envisioned self move forward
her form is indistinguishable in the dark that has swallowed her
the time it takes to reach her destination is an eternity
she has traveled miles in this room
finally
greeted at the throne
with acceptance
warmth of glowing innocence
outstretched arms
a face that she can not bring her eyes to look upon
she falls to her knees
the weight of her burdened hands, burdened soul
suddenly, forcefully overwhelms her, repulses her
she releases her burden at his feet
she sobs mournfully at its impurity
relief washes over her
exhausted from emotion
covered in peace
she falls asleep...
the honk of a passing car is enough to wake the mrs. still curled in her chair
although she is certain she has been there for hours, the second hand on her clock insists
only fifteen minutes have passed since she made her retreat.
her head is clearer than it has been in awhile - her soul is lighter than it has ever been...
free actually
this is the first time she has accepted this gift & experienced true freedom
she closes her eyes once again & whispers "thank you Lord"
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
the space between
no, the mrs. has indeed not forgotten how to type. although the absence was just long enough to warrant multiple attempts at signing in to blogger... most author's would apologize and give a succinct list of (perhaps worthy, likely not) excuses for such a lengthy intermission, very predictable.
not the mrs. she will, in fact, pretend that the calendar skips from October 2011 to September 2012.
except, time has a way of changing things, and things have changed. as if looking through the borrowed spectacles of a friend, the view is familiar, but distorted - if even slightly.
(not the basics.
family unit, happily intact.
the mouth's adhd still reigns (but not supreme)
the darling is still darling.
and the firstborn, well, isas handsome as he is talented smart, kind and important (sorry, wouldn't want to give him an ego, or complex of some sort...)
the four legged community doubled, while the contents within the saltwater tank remained the same for the second year in a row (and much to the surprise and relief of certain members of the family).)
new food vocabulary was added to our menu. let's just say gluten free isn't as terrifying as it seems at first, but it can be challenging, even after ten months.
multiple ambulance rides gave the mrs. a chance to meet and learn the names/faces of the local emergency responders and children's hospital staff, while the darling proved to be as darling as ever while being picked, prodded and scanned and eventually diagnosed with epilepsy. seriously, its serious but not that serious.
clear as mud. just like dealing with neurology staff.
we said goodbye (much too soon) to 'the favorite' member of our extended family. and even if it would have been 200 years from now, it would still be too soon. there is certainly a hole in many a heart, that could only be filled with the love and joy 'the favorite' could give...
the little white house was covered by the hand of the god we love as a tornado made it's mark on our neighborhood.
yes really.
lightening mercifully cleared the packed fields of the youth baseball complex across the street, minutes before the unpredicted and unexpected funnel descended upon us. occupied cars were flipped.
the neighbor lost the back roof of his home. other neighbors lost shingles and fences.
beautiful, deeply rooted trees were toppled. others were snapped or lost branches.
a branch that pierced the shell of this house was the most extensive structural damage this home received.
it is easy to joyfully deal with the mess
the slight but widespread damage
the loss of our things
knowing we could have lost much more that night at the dinner table.
our church family came together - once again - to help us achieve normalcy at a pace that would have been impossible without them. and all impossible without him.
summer came and with it brought an opportunity for the professor to be employed by our church. even just for the summer, we gained so much more than a pay check.
the firstborn has sustained the normal bumps and bruises of growing up, and now changing school districts. (do not get the mrs. going, she can stay on that soapbox forever)
summer went, celebrated by a weekend at the lake. a teaser for heaven in the opinion of the mrs. but only if there is a boat and a dock and plenty of fish waiting to be caught, but not too easily!
school has now started, routines are set.
there are hours during the week where there is only one occupant in the little white house
she hardly knows what to do in the quiet she is left with.
so
the spotify playlist is long and varied
the speakers are often turned up louder than she would ever let the professor
she sings at the top of her lungs and dances around like a whirlwind
knowing that the hand of god will protect her even if she is unaware that she needs protecting
not the mrs. she will, in fact, pretend that the calendar skips from October 2011 to September 2012.
except, time has a way of changing things, and things have changed. as if looking through the borrowed spectacles of a friend, the view is familiar, but distorted - if even slightly.
(not the basics.
family unit, happily intact.
the mouth's adhd still reigns (but not supreme)
the darling is still darling.
and the firstborn, well, is
the four legged community doubled, while the contents within the saltwater tank remained the same for the second year in a row (and much to the surprise and relief of certain members of the family).)
new food vocabulary was added to our menu. let's just say gluten free isn't as terrifying as it seems at first, but it can be challenging, even after ten months.
multiple ambulance rides gave the mrs. a chance to meet and learn the names/faces of the local emergency responders and children's hospital staff, while the darling proved to be as darling as ever while being picked, prodded and scanned and eventually diagnosed with epilepsy. seriously, its serious but not that serious.
clear as mud. just like dealing with neurology staff.
we said goodbye (much too soon) to 'the favorite' member of our extended family. and even if it would have been 200 years from now, it would still be too soon. there is certainly a hole in many a heart, that could only be filled with the love and joy 'the favorite' could give...
the little white house was covered by the hand of the god we love as a tornado made it's mark on our neighborhood.
yes really.
lightening mercifully cleared the packed fields of the youth baseball complex across the street, minutes before the unpredicted and unexpected funnel descended upon us. occupied cars were flipped.
the neighbor lost the back roof of his home. other neighbors lost shingles and fences.
beautiful, deeply rooted trees were toppled. others were snapped or lost branches.
a branch that pierced the shell of this house was the most extensive structural damage this home received.
it is easy to joyfully deal with the mess
the slight but widespread damage
the loss of our things
knowing we could have lost much more that night at the dinner table.
our church family came together - once again - to help us achieve normalcy at a pace that would have been impossible without them. and all impossible without him.
summer came and with it brought an opportunity for the professor to be employed by our church. even just for the summer, we gained so much more than a pay check.
the firstborn has sustained the normal bumps and bruises of growing up, and now changing school districts. (do not get the mrs. going, she can stay on that soapbox forever)
summer went, celebrated by a weekend at the lake. a teaser for heaven in the opinion of the mrs. but only if there is a boat and a dock and plenty of fish waiting to be caught, but not too easily!
school has now started, routines are set.
there are hours during the week where there is only one occupant in the little white house
she hardly knows what to do in the quiet she is left with.
so
the spotify playlist is long and varied
the speakers are often turned up louder than she would ever let the professor
she sings at the top of her lungs and dances around like a whirlwind
knowing that the hand of god will protect her even if she is unaware that she needs protecting
Monday, October 17, 2011
blog for a cause
there is a cause very close to the heart of this family.
it recently became very clear to the mrs. & the professor that there was something 'going on' with the mouth. not just typical kid stuff, but internal issues that were beyond what the mrs. & the professor, as parents, were capable of guiding the mouth through on their own. so the mrs. & the professor met with doctors and got confirmation of the suspected cause.
adhd.
whew.
not the end of the world, even though at times it seems like it is.
there is light at the end of the adhd tunnel, many ways to get there, and no matter what happens our god is still good. thanks to adhd, the prayer life at the little white house has never been as strong as it is right now. eucharisteo! (google it)
so do this little family a favor and take a few minutes to learn more about adhd, this is national adhd awareness week, after all.
http://www.adhdawarenessweek.org/
thank you,
-the mrs.
it recently became very clear to the mrs. & the professor that there was something 'going on' with the mouth. not just typical kid stuff, but internal issues that were beyond what the mrs. & the professor, as parents, were capable of guiding the mouth through on their own. so the mrs. & the professor met with doctors and got confirmation of the suspected cause.
adhd.
whew.
not the end of the world, even though at times it seems like it is.
there is light at the end of the adhd tunnel, many ways to get there, and no matter what happens our god is still good. thanks to adhd, the prayer life at the little white house has never been as strong as it is right now. eucharisteo! (google it)
so do this little family a favor and take a few minutes to learn more about adhd, this is national adhd awareness week, after all.
http://www.adhdawarenessweek.org/
thank you,
-the mrs.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
something beautiful
if you look past the dishes piled up in the sink, to the window overlooking the neighbor's used truck lot house, you might think that the mrs. tried (and failed) to be creative by imitating something she saw in a disgustingly-over-priced-obviously-faked-antique(but-you-still-want-everything-in-it-for-some-reason) catalogue. a small smooth stone with the word 'share' neatly printed in black sharpie sits on the window ledge.
although many of the mrs. creative endevors are indeed failures, this was not in the category of 'creative endevor'.
more correctly labled 'divine inspiration', the rock is a reminder that the things the mrs., the professor and their offspring have been blessed with are not to bless just this one family. but to potentially bless everyone the family happens to know.
the first two years in the little white house were lovely... but solitary. aside from family, the total number of times 'company' was invited over is an embarassing total of once. once in two years.
sure. sure.
there are a miriad ofreasons excuses for why no one was ever invited over. settling in. crazy work schedules. no dishwasher. kitchen remodel. be assured the list could go on. and on.
then came the rock. a simple assignment from a woman's retreat the mrs. attended. pick a rock. wait openly for your message. lable the rock. indeed a message was laid heavily on the mrs. heart. of how
she might not have alot, but what she has is amazing. on paper it is not much. the monetary value islaughable modest. but there is so much more to a life than its monetary value.
how do you price a smile?
a laugh?
what price do you put on a new friendship?
a seasoned one?
you don't. you can't. because honestly, there would never be enough money to afford these things, and even if there was, they are not things that are made with money. they are made with openness, honesty, time, love and so. much. more.
the share rock has -literally and figuratively- lived in the heart of this house for almost two years. it has witnessed this family open its hearts and home to 'company' hundreds of times -if not more- than the first two years, and rest assured, this is just the begining of something beautiful.
although many of the mrs. creative endevors are indeed failures, this was not in the category of 'creative endevor'.
more correctly labled 'divine inspiration', the rock is a reminder that the things the mrs., the professor and their offspring have been blessed with are not to bless just this one family. but to potentially bless everyone the family happens to know.
the first two years in the little white house were lovely... but solitary. aside from family, the total number of times 'company' was invited over is an embarassing total of once. once in two years.
sure. sure.
there are a miriad of
then came the rock. a simple assignment from a woman's retreat the mrs. attended. pick a rock. wait openly for your message. lable the rock. indeed a message was laid heavily on the mrs. heart. of how
she might not have alot, but what she has is amazing. on paper it is not much. the monetary value is
how do you price a smile?
a laugh?
what price do you put on a new friendship?
a seasoned one?
you don't. you can't. because honestly, there would never be enough money to afford these things, and even if there was, they are not things that are made with money. they are made with openness, honesty, time, love and so. much. more.
the share rock has -literally and figuratively- lived in the heart of this house for almost two years. it has witnessed this family open its hearts and home to 'company' hundreds of times -if not more- than the first two years, and rest assured, this is just the begining of something beautiful.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
the making of a mother
12 years ago today, a (very) handsome (not so) little bundle of joy made the mrs. a mother. born as blue as the bunk bed he now sleeps in and in a very far away country, they have literally and figuratively 'come a long way'.
12 years ago the mrs. knew she was blessed, but not exactly how much. watching the firstborn grow from that not so tiny newborn into a funny toddler, loving preschooler, obedient child and now intelligent and hard working preteen has amazed her and caught her off guard. she is blessed beyond measure. beyond her capability of understanding.
eventually the events signaling growth will become more signifigant. his voice will change. his skin will change. the firstborn will drive. graduate high school. the firstborn will become an adult. go to college. the firstborn will move away. miss family gatherings. the firstborn will fall in love...
the first born will live life just as he should.
and just as she should, the mrs. will always think of him as that (very) handsome (not so) little bundle of joy that made her a mother. a very proud mother. even if she is a little sad that he has to grow up...
12 years ago the mrs. knew she was blessed, but not exactly how much. watching the firstborn grow from that not so tiny newborn into a funny toddler, loving preschooler, obedient child and now intelligent and hard working preteen has amazed her and caught her off guard. she is blessed beyond measure. beyond her capability of understanding.
eventually the events signaling growth will become more signifigant. his voice will change. his skin will change. the firstborn will drive. graduate high school. the firstborn will become an adult. go to college. the firstborn will move away. miss family gatherings. the firstborn will fall in love...
the first born will live life just as he should.
and just as she should, the mrs. will always think of him as that (very) handsome (not so) little bundle of joy that made her a mother. a very proud mother. even if she is a little sad that he has to grow up...
Thursday, July 21, 2011
summer lovin'
the mrs. happens to love summer. a lot. summer brings out the best in the people who frequent the little white house and the people in the little white house alike.
summer means late nights and abandoned alarm clocks... just because we can. summer means getting down right nasty working in the yard & proudly earning our tan lines the old fashioned way. summer means family get togethers to celebrate milestones and backyard cookouts for no reason at all. summer means neglecting the housework so we can nurture our souls. summer means the water billdoubles quadruples - thanks to the daily use of the slip'n'slide - a definite bargain for the memories we've made.
summer. made more grand because it ends.
tan lines fade. routines restored. sand & mud tracked inside transitions from a symbol of carefree days to just another task on a 'to-do' list. swimsuits & short pants replaced by hats & scarves as summer heat gives way to winter's frigid inevitability. and while winter is not loved, it is deeply appreciated. providing a much needed remedy to a season so full, the mrs. feels as worn out as her favorite pair of flipflops. and she wouldn't have it any other way.
summer means late nights and abandoned alarm clocks... just because we can. summer means getting down right nasty working in the yard & proudly earning our tan lines the old fashioned way. summer means family get togethers to celebrate milestones and backyard cookouts for no reason at all. summer means neglecting the housework so we can nurture our souls. summer means the water bill
summer. made more grand because it ends.
tan lines fade. routines restored. sand & mud tracked inside transitions from a symbol of carefree days to just another task on a 'to-do' list. swimsuits & short pants replaced by hats & scarves as summer heat gives way to winter's frigid inevitability. and while winter is not loved, it is deeply appreciated. providing a much needed remedy to a season so full, the mrs. feels as worn out as her favorite pair of flipflops. and she wouldn't have it any other way.
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