Friday, March 29, 2013

A Tale of Two Truths (and apparently I have a thing for "T's" lately :)

Truth speaking folks.

Always my favorite to be around for a while at a time.

People different from my own flaws that see things from behind different colored glasses.

Love them.

The people who encourage me the most are those who lean hard over coffee and feel safe enough to ask, to wonder with me and to tell me the truth.

Jesus was a truth speaker.

I happen to believe that when scripture tells us that He went about doing good... well I believe that a lot of that was speaking truth as much as healing infirmities.

Infirmities of the mind can be the worst of all.

Lies that creep in, that deform how we view others, life, God.

A twist on God’s design that satan capitalizes on and feeds like it is his prize begonia in this vast garden of humankind.

And we as women folk run silent while doing the dishes and folding clothes and drilling spelling words, just adding the mind to the list of things to organize for that day and if we don’t get to it that day we just let it spill over into the next and the next.

And we feel such a bother to spill our hurts and thoughts and questions to those around us. 

Do they really care that we lost half a night’s sleep thinking we had cancer somewhere?

Sometimes it is just easier for us to let the cancer of the mind do it’s dirty work and suffer alone with worry, fear or doubt.

Doubt, that cancer of the soul that forgets so easily words that give life again.

And today before the lunch spread of homemade chicken salad and meatloaf sandwiches made their grand appearance it just slipped out, between friends and I half wondered if I should excuse myself or allow myself to bear what I had been keeping for too long.

And as always, ALWAYS with God’s love alive and shining through flesh and blood, it was grace that covered my questions, and each thought was carefully studied and weighed.

Weighed and tried with years of experience that just soothed me like only grace and the merciful can.

And I felt a tear but did my dead level best to shy it away. It was a tear of relief.

Of relief that it was okay to have questions and feel horrible about some things and get them sorted out like you would recyclables.

Keep some, sort some, and throw some in the rubbish.

For good.

Each of us are marked, shaped by those who have poured into us.

Some, have poured truth.

Some, have not.

Some have left grace on the shelf and led you to believe that all roads are rough, and you must press through any obstacle, people included.

And in my 35 almost 36 years young I am constantly weeding my thought life. 

Weeding and enjoying those gracious enough to hear me out, thoughts and feelings and wonderings all alike and help me see things from someone else’s shoes.

It is no fault of someone to have a bent.

Bents are life. They are the result of the pouring of others.

And how are you to know any different until a sweet someone lets you unwind a bit?

No pushing, no arguing.

Just quiet sifting, learning, 




To balance out a bit.

Thank you special someone.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

The Taming of the Twelve.

The twelve.

Running up the stairs and down, and playing BOTH pianos.

We sit for tea and a stack of ginger snaps to formulate a plan.

If we are together, we're STRONG... divided..... WEAK.

We are RESOLVED. We are downing ginger snaps like there's no tomorrow.

Alright, sounds good. Come with me to wipe a bottom on the toilet.

Ok, lets start that whole "together" thing AFTER this bathroom break.

I massage my husband's feet for the sole purpose of these visitors seeing and going home to publish my sweetness to their mother.

I am smelling something while Joel enquires about our resources for a snack.

Is it really ONLY 9:30???

The organ was apparently lonely and needs to play along as well. Who knew the first few notes of "Jingle Bells" was so endearing?

I think he's messy?


No. He just went.

Well you better check anyway.

He checks and gives me the "I told you so," look and I tell him we have celery and peanut butter for snack.

And puzzle pieces are flying and older ones are trying to figure out how to play "Ten Days in Asia."

"Hmmm you can go to Turkey OR Lebanon."

I was just thinking the BACK YARD....

And their chatter is mixed with Joel teaching Anna to draw an "8."

This bubble is bigger than that bubble..

I am bribing a little to watch over another little that is prone to mischief and each time she checks in with me and no one has lost life or limb she gets a hershey kiss.

She checks in a lot. Well it's worth it for some peace of mind.


"5, 6, 7, 8...."

"Machal but ser yam."

A collective, "Huh?"

Tell me again honey? What?

"Machal but ser yam."

Rachel is cutting ham???

Older brother comes to the rescue telling me that his sister is using the restroom.

It's all good.

Two are missing and some shoes are on and we are stealthy parents.

"There sar sants in the bafoom."

Two go exploring and the older girls fear I will make them fold laundry until night fall and so they hide.

Smart girls.

I need a tissue.

Giggling girls run to and from the "sants."

And ONE SQUARE of two-ply comes.

Can I have a little BIGGER piece???

And as they frolic we are reminded again that if they revolt, we are in serious trouble.

The thought also occurs to me that this is what it would have been like if EACH of our littles had a twin.

I mysteriously begin singing praises to God.

I am imagining Michelle Duggar saying in her sing songy voice, "Jim Bob tells me all the time, These are the best days of our lives and we don't even know it."

And some days I want to do physical harm to her for saying so.

But today as I catch Joel's eye and he gives me that, "We will make it though this day and laugh when we go to bed," look,

I know she was spot on today.

....and it's 9:45

Well, I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back.

Let me know if you need some help.

giggle giggle....