Lord, That I May See

Today I watched four trees felled by a machine. The trees were uprooted to make room for a huge brick mansion that is planned in the midst of a neighborhood near where I live. There had been five large trees on the lot and only the smallest one was left. It is the one close enough to the property line and fence to be out of the way of the construction. The other four are now huge piles of wood chips in the lot. I simply wasn't prepared for the horrible lurching and sinking of my heart as I watched. The machine -- huge and orange with a claw that could bend steel beams -- ripped into the ground, tearing, gnashing and clutching at the roots, huge thick, life giving roots that seemed to cling to the ground desperately. Then the metal giant raised its clutches to the treetops, and pushed. Oh, they were such terrible determined pushes! The tree strained against the merciless metal for breathless, lingering seconds, to the very last exerting all the power of its life and vitality, the a...

and wishing so hard I could just wake up in my own room in my own little house, with the sunlight slanting through the old blinds and the maple tree outside my window. I want to go home. Maybe if I were home, being alone in the evenings and the nights wouldn't be so hard. Maybe I could take a deep breath, out there in the freshness and let it all out. All the worries, all the loneliness, all the unsurety, the fear of the future and the frustration of the present. The furrowed brow of the man I love. The anger of the little girl I am understanding less and less. The hardship of my father, my mother, my family. The distance of the God that seems to be letting us alone. I guess it's pretty normal to pin your dreams on one thing, as if, if you could just have that one thing, everything else scary and hard and draining would be fixed. That one thing is my home.

from http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/ FOR TODAY July 28th Outside My Window... seven power lines. (I am trying to choose to like my view, I promise!) I am thinking... of my sister in Texas, finishing up the first third of her AMA Primary Training and coming home soon! I am thankful for... naptimes. Oh, how I love naptimes on days such as today, in which the girls in this house cried at least sixteen different times and the mother in this house at least twice! From the kitchen... warm banana bread I am wearing... gray sweatpants and a blue T-shirt from my dear college. Hey, at least I have earrings on, which is a rarity. :) I am creating... should I lie and make something up? No energy for creating right now. I am going... to eat lunch in utter silence and read my book. Yes! I am reading... Brighton Rock, by Graham Greene. I like it much better the second time around, but I'm still thinking it's my least favorite of his so far. I am hoping... for the grace to see clearly w...

We ate: macaroni and cheese, fresh corn on the cob and blueberries. We worked: "sooping" dirt into the flower pots, and then watering our flowers with the watering can. We got dirty. We got clean in the shower. We went to bed. Isn't that what life is all about? :)

Turtle helped me put her "blankie" from her bed from the washer into the dryer. She watched as I turned on the heat. Looking at me seriously, she said: "I'nna stand right dere and wait till all done." Really? Okay! This'll be a nice quiet morning for Mommy. ;)

"Without the Cross there would be many more faithful in the world; but would these be loving souls? For all eternity He wants to be able to thank us for having chosen Him, in sacrifice, for having shared His Cross with Him. When He gives us something to suffer, said little Therese, it is because He wants a gift from us. What gift? A smile on the Cross. He begs for our love, proven by suffering, in order to be able to say, 'It is you who remained with me in the trial.'" ~Fr, Jean C.J. d'Elbee, I Believe in Love "Shall we accept good from the Lord and not trouble?... "Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines… and the fields yield no food… yet I will rejoice in the Lord" (Hab. 3:17-18). “And [Samuel] said, ‘It is the Lord; let Him do what seems good to Him’” (1 Sam. 3:18)

http://aholyexperience.com/2008/07/choose-view.html ************************************* Edited to add: http://wholeheart.typepad.com/itakejoy/2008/07/a-very-blue-tue.html God is using the internet to tell me something. Please pray for me -- I am so weak and unfaithful to Him!

I am loving this daybook from http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/ and have enjoyed reading it at other's blogs, including my friend Laura's http://sweethomealabama22.blogspot.com/2008/06/simple-womans-daybook.html . Here is my first one! FOR TODAY July 21st 2008 Outside My Window... the gray roofs of two other closeby houses. This is so different for me. And a little sad. I am thinking... of my garden left behind at our dear little house -- oregano, sage, sugar snap peas, baby lettuce and spinach, beets and carrots, planted with care in the warm wet dirt. They were growing beautifully when I left them. I am thankful for... a sleeping baby, resting now after struggling through the sickest day of her little life so far. From the kitchen... I am going to soak raw milk and flour in my sourdough starter for tomorrow morning's blueberry sourdough pancakes. I am wearing... jean shorts, a brown shirt, bare feet (can I make something exciting up? :) I am creating... a shell-string...

A tousle-headed child stumbles smiling sleepily into our room. Flip-flops are immediately put on. Breakfast is requested three different times. The bedside lamp nearly falls and breaks from vigorous cord-messing-with. Daddy's blackberry thinks it is being told (by child) to "CALL THOMAS?" Daddy's wallet is disassembled. Business and credit cards everywhere. A business card is placed in the refrigerator. A bright-eyed baby's morning talking noises turn to shrieks of anger at the mother who cannot produce the morning meal at a nano-second's notice. Egg yolk-laced spit up is cleaned up off of baby and baby's bed. There are also baby shrieks of happy talking. Quite a lot of them. Child gets angry at baby for piercing her and everyone else's eardrums and adds yells of her own. A fight is fought (and subsequently mitigated) over who should have daddy's belt to buckle/play with/bite on. A bitty little baby finger is closed in the bathroom door for sever...

So, do you think she'll be a graphic designer?

I love that children force you to slow down. It's so good for me, and so hard too! http://mommylife.net/archives/2008/07/montessori_mond_9.html

It's particularly strong on Sundays.

when she supplies the choices if you don't! She asks to listen to music and you say "Yes" but forget to list the choices, as you usually do, and she, after looking at you for a moment, says under her breath to herself, "Mozart? Or Dave Mallet?"

I've been brought up against truths about myself, some that I'd rather not see at all, and some that I really even would rather not change. And I am left feeling adrift and lost, unsure of who I am and who I should be, unsure of my own opinions and thoughts in the face of a stronger, firmer opinion and thought that seems to bulldoze my own. I feel that even what I thought I did know and want is somehow dismissed, invalidated and misunderstood. And me, little me, I am so influenced by others and bearing such a tendency toward being unsure of myself. I can't bear the lurking wondering whether I am wrong after all in what I am trying to do, or going about things all the wrong way even though I thought that way to be so right. Why do I have to argue myself back into holding the position that I still feel in my heart must be right, and is my way? And I hate it. I hate knowing that in a way I brought this upon myself. I hate feeling shaken and unclear in explaining myself to othe...

I miss this. We were walking up the front walk one night and Turtle, looking up at the pinkish-gray sky, shakes her head solemnly and says, "There's no moon. And no stars." No, there isn't. And I hate it. Photo from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/poorfish/541787770/

"Mommy, Mommy, wook! Mommy, Mommy, watch!" We are at the park. Turtle is discovering many things (we call them her "tricks") that she can do on the swings besides actually swing. Hang upside down, stand on the swing, lay on the swing, run and jump onto the swing, etc. "Yes, I'm watching, Turtle." But I can just feel an accident waiting to happen. You know that feeling? The laughing is about to be crying . . . She runs toward the swing smiling and flings her body, tummy first, onto it. She slips over it and down, face first with a thump onto the sandy dirt. Two women sitting on a nearby bench gasp. Turtle is crying loudly. Now, I can tend to be a anxious type of mother sometimes. Especially when it comes to bad things happening to my children -- anything from choking to kidnapping to bleeding to being disliked. And, there have been instances where my first instinctive reaction to any incident, a fall, an injury, or a scare is to gasp, yelp, rush over, ...