Apr 15, 2013 |
THUNK.
And then, again.
THUNK.
That’s what my friend Lisa says these types of writings do for her. When God uses me to write His message on her heart. She gets thunked.
As you’ve undoubtedly noticed from my incredible lack of writing lately, there’s not been a lot of thunking going on. Sorry, Lisa.
I need a respite. A retreat. I need to find a way to afford a weekend getaway to disconnect from the world and reconnect with my daughter, my writing, and my God. I need nature. To spend time in His world and renew my view. I need refreshing.
I’m tired. I’m tired all the time lately. The Cookbook Project was so fulfilling, so successful. So exhausting. Through the end stages of ordering product and processing orders, I fell under a bout of anemia. It doesn’t happen often. But if I don’t take care of myself, it can affect me.
I was already tired. So I didn’t cook too much in the last month. We ate leftovers and easy fixings: toast, eggs, oatmeal. It’s not like a homecooked meal. But I tried. Sometimes. And sometimes I didn’t. Which is why my iron levels dropped. I didn’t make the connection until one morning the dark circles under my eyes were darker. And not going away. And neither was my fatigue.
And then I remembered. I’m borderline anemic and I hadn’t eaten meat for much longer than a week. Neither had I taken vitamins.
My eczema has flared up as well. Rough, dry, itchy patches on my legs and hands. Yeah. Real attractive, right? The problem with eczema is the more it flares up, the more I rub/scratch, the more it flares up. Ugh. Talk about your Catch-22. My eczema is a result of cold, dry weather, weather changes, dietary changes, and stress. Hmm. Any of those happen lately? Let me think… I’ll take (e) for All of The Above, Alex.
Just about ten days ago I made a wonderful discovery. Something I’d not known before. Something which makes people who hate the internet, appreciate this information highway just a little. Anemia and eczema are connected.
Awesome.
I mean it. What a sigh of relief to know I don’t have a buzzillion things wrong with me; but rather one thing that is affecting me in a buzzillion ways. If I can get the anemia under control, the eczema will follow.
I’m still tired. Greatly overwhelmed. But I’m hopeful. I don’t expect my body to rebound after one red-meat meal. It will take a little time. Hope is a beautiful thing: Hope, in itself, offers promise and peace.
The anemia isn’t the only cause of my eczema. I need to release my worries and concerns. I need my body to let go of the stress it’s holding on to. That’s so much easier said than done. Am I right?
Let’s have a show of hands: Who has worries? Who has concerns? I thought so.
Worries and concerns aren’t unique. Troubles are a natural part of life. But doesn’t it seem that there are more worries and concerns lately? Isn’t the world around you more troubled than it used to be? Are you losing sleep, too? The deep-breathing thing doesn’t always help, does it? Yeah. Me either.
There’s a lot I’m not doing because I’m so tired. I’ve been unable to tend to my yardwork. I haven’t visited friends as often. And I’m not writing. Not really. I haven’t touched the novel for over two months. I haven’t even read my Bible.
My fatigue makes me feel like a failure. And causes me concern. These projects that aren’t getting done: how detrimental are these delays?
Today was it. That moment when I finally spoke aloud the words I knew were welling up inside of me. “I don’t have energy to be happy right now. I need replenishment.” Thankfully, blessedly, God heard me.
Dot nudged me to go to Church with her. I wanted to just stay in bed. But she wasn’t having any of that. I knew there would be a reason for me to go, so I went. We unexpectedly met some of my Very Favorite People there, who invited us to lunch at IHOP after.
Hey. Free food. I don’t have to cook. And I get to enjoy their company? Yeah. I’ll bite that apple. [Yes, my chocolate-chocolate chip pancakes were delicious. Thank you asking, Kenny.] Two hours later we finally disbanded. And I felt fed. Loved. Comforted. And a bit replenished.
I’ve been waiting for a Big Miracle, when the little ones are right in front of me. I can’t conquer the world. But I can conquer one task. At least, I can start.
So tonight, rather than watch TV, I turned it off and decided to pick up my Bible. I subscribe to one of those little daily prayer magazines. I haven’t looked at it in months. I figured it would be a good way to edge back into the Nightly Prayer Routine. My focus is easily distracted these days, so I can use all the guidance I can get.
After saying goodnight to Dot, I went to my room where the first distraction came about. My adorable cats were cuddled up, waiting for me. I also wanted to post an Instagram photo of my new fox necklace. That’s a separate story; but this part is important: as I was looking at the photos from those I follow, one lovely young lady posted this:
“So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be afraid or dismayed,
for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
She posted it as a reminder to herself that He is always here. But I think God had her post it so she could THUNK me with it.
In this moment, before I started my Bible reading and prayer time, God is already soothing my soul. I am so very afraid of how terrible our finances are. I am so very worried about getting through each day. I don’t know what to do or where to turn.
But God does. And He chose someone else’s troubles to tell me.
And it doesn’t stop there. After reading that, and feeling a slight rejoicing well up inside me, I opened my little magazine. Today’s verse of the day is Isaiah 35:3-10. Isaiah is a book filled with stories of Strength and Endurance. Just look at the first word in these first two verses:
“Strengthen the feeble hands,
steady the knees that give way;
say to those with fearful hearts,
‘Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you.'”
I guess now I should tell you that before I read, I wrote. My journal is full of letters to God. Pouring my heart out, praising Him in thanks, offering up prayers for others. As you can imagine, tonight’s entry was full of phrases like “Rescue me” and “Fight for me” and “Why is this so hard?” and “What do I do?” I knew He would hear me. Am I so tired that I’m not hearing the answer?
And then I read Isaiah.
That alone made me giggle a little.
You see, many years ago, in choir, I was known as the Teddy Bear Rescue Mission. I’ve always collected teddy bears. Still do, when I get the chance. About ten years ago, I was going through a very rough time and constantly seeking God’s presence. I asked Him to specifically show Himself to me in ways that were meant only for me. Over several months, He blessed me. With bears. Abandoned teddy bears I found on the side of the road, took home and cleaned up. There’s Roadie, Faith, and especially Isaiah. Isaiah was a brand new Ty Beanie Baby bear that happened to be in the middle of the road just as I drove up and stopped for a signal. I only had to open my door, reach down and pick him up. To this day, that bear is a symbol of God’s promise to care for me personally, individually, and intimately. He knows me and knows not only what I need for my body, but for my mind, emotions, and soul. He continues to refresh and replenish me. Even if the world doesn’t see it. Even if the bills still don’t get paid. Even if my anemia and eczema doesn’t go away.
Bears are awesome creatures. They are big. Strong. Yet cuddly. Furious and ferocious. And I have always loved them. And foxes remind me of Disney’s Robin Hood. They are beautiful, quick, quiet. Each of these wildlife animals command respect and admiration and awe. They don’t worry. They live the lives they are designed to live. You don’t see a bear trying to be a zebra, or a fox imitating a bird. They don’t worry about tomorrow.
There are approximately 365 mentions in the Bible to “not fear”. The variations are “Don’t be afraid,” “Do not fear,” and “fear not.” 365. That’s one for every day of the year. I’d say if God says it that much, He must have known we’d need the reminders.
I didn’t have to get away to connect with nature. I didn’t need a retreat to feel restored. And I don’t have to worry about my bills and budget.
I needed only to open my eyes. And be the best Molly Jo I know how. The rest will take care of itself. Somehow.
Faith Like a Fox
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
You may also enjoy reading:
The Bear Rug ~ A Heritage Story
A Lesson to Trust
Give Us This Day…
What I Learned on Women’s Retreat [The Big Whammy!]
Destination Mission Inn
Mar 24, 2013
I said this to a friend yesterday. I was completely sincere.
He’d had a heart attack nine months ago. Without warning. I woke up one Sunday to read on Facebook, “Had a heart attack last night.” I tried to figure out what he meant. Was he referring to a fright? Did his sports team lose? It wasn’t until he posted a photo of him in the hospital bed that I realized he was serious: he’d had an actual heart attack. As we were chatting this weekend about so many things in life, I thanked him for not dying.
Another friend of mine went through a bad health scare a few years ago, yet focuses his attentions on helping others before himself. Still someone else is suffering depression and it saddens me that I can’t be a stronger help for her.
So many people don’t realize their importance to others. We take our friends and even our families for granted. While we share ourselves to an extent, we may never really know what’s going on inside someone else’s mind, body or soul. Anything can happen at any given moment.
Everyone has something to offer; a reason for being in our lives. I’m a strong believer in letting people know how you feel.
This is for each and every one of you still in my life.
My Dearest Person,
Thank you for not dying.
You are valuable to me in ways I can’t fully express. You have honored me with your trust, your respect, your company. You are an example to me of how live through hard times, and celebrate Something Good.
There are times when I have felt useless and burdensome yet you never let me stop being me. You helped build the foundation of my life and while I try often, I don’t think I thank you enough.
Words can’t express what I really want to say to you. I’m so grateful to have you to laugh with, to cry with, to ask help from and be a help to. I want you to know that being a part of your life is so rewarding to me. You’re not perfect; I’m not perfect. But together, we’re a perfect blend of give and take.
My memories of us will never be forgotten. I love that we’re adding to them constantly. I can’t possibly imagine my life without you. And I’m so glad at this point in time, I don’t have to.
Whatever you went through, are going through, will go through… Thank you for not dying.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
With much love,
Molly Jo
Expand Your Horizons
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Not Such a Bad Day
Using The “F” Word
Afterthoughts
Friends v. Friends
To the Young Adult Females in My Life
To The One Who Lost Someone This Week and Others Who Are Hurting
Dear Amy, I’m Just So Sorry For Your Loss.
Do You Mean It?
Promise Me We’ll Be Like Them
Jan 23, 2013 |
As I start this, I just know it will end up on Shell’s “Pour Your Heart Out” Page. I’m thankful for her keeping that weekly link up open so I can spill my emotional vomit and not be the only one doing it. Misery loves company, right?
Okay, so it’s not all miserable. But it’s a lot of what I can’t, or won’t, normally write. Today’s post is about life. And death. And a few things in between.
The last week has been a mixture of endurance, sorrow, mourning, and sickness. The details don’t really matter. My Blog friend, Jenn, nailed it when she said this is “vague blogging”. Not so much a fan of teasing y’all… but there really are some things I just can’t say. Ever.
Except today I’m sad. I’m just utterly sad and tired and worn out… and, of course, hopeful. Because regardless of how bad things are (and I thought they were bad a month ago… boy was that just a prelude!), nevertheless, I’m still loved. And sheltered. And cared for. And breathing. So it’s okay.
That’s the part I’m choosing to remember. The parts that turn the bad stuff into Something Good. That even my worst is someone else’s best. I’m blessed, I’m rich, I’m healthy. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.
And I could sit here giving myself a Pity Party. I choose not to. That doesn’t mean I’m not tired or worn out or feeling down. It just means I can still smile about it. And if all I know is only that, it’s still enough.
I can’t even say life goes on… for some, it doesn’t.
It’s completely strange yet comforting that most of my tears fell at the end of FLASHPOINT. It wasn’t just the end of this wonderful series that got me. It was the catalyst that allowed me to face the pains inside. It gave me permission to cry. It was a bit confusing… and a bit cathartic.
It was symbolic of so much. The highs and lows of the last week. The beginning of some things… and the end of others.
And then there are the stories I can’t tell, because they’re not mine to tell. The stories that leave a pain in my soul that isn’t easily healed. So I hold on to hope that this, too, shall pass.
Dot is under the weather tonight. I’m hoping she just needs a good night’s sleep. We’ve been house-hopping to Mom’s for a few days because the furnace is out. Again. The fifth time since Christmas. And it’s finally been given its last legs, a new one has been ordered. It was suggested that we get a carbon monoxide detector “just in case”. While it hasn’t sounded an alarm yet, there’s that keyword yet. I’ll be sleeping less peacefully until the new one is installed on Saturday.
We’ve been intermittently staying at home in the cold, staying at mom’s in the warmth, and thankfully, the furnace is working just enough tonight for us to stay home comfortably. I expect it to go out again tomorrow, as that seems to be its pattern. At least the cats are happy to have us home. But the turmoil hasn’t been good for Dot, and now she’s feeling ill. I hope it’s not the flu. She has so much on her plate, that’s the last thing she needs.
And a Momma never stops worrying about her babies, no matter how old they are. My mom and I are evidence enough of that!
I’m waiting to exhale when the Cookbook Project is finished. I don’t understand how I could believe in something so completely and not be successful at it. But that glimmer teases me. It’s not over yet. One more week. I have one more week. And, as the last week has evidenced, anything can happen. Even the unexpected. Be it good or bad. I believe it will be Good. But getting there is terribly stressful.
Mostly, tonight, I can’t shake the feeling of sadness over one small thing:
I never hugged Grandpa Jack.
He’s not my Grandpa. He’s the father-in-law of my dear friend. She’s been a motherly-mentor to me for nearly two decades. We were at their house for Thanksgiving, and the whole family was around. And when it came time to leave, I was selective in my affections. And I awkwardly never hugged him. Because after knowing the man for 18 years, I still didn’t know him. And I was embarrassed by my shyness. So we left. It was the best time we’d ever had together at the Great Turkey Shoot. I told myself I’d hug him at Christmas.
But I didn’t see him again.
And now he’s gone.
I never hugged Grandpa Jack. And that horrible thought haunts me. Because now I never will.
I don’t know what to do with all this pain… except sleep on it and know that tomorrow I’ll wake a bit more refreshed. A bit more warm. A bit more optimistic.
Because Shell let me get it out of my system. Sometimes, all we need is a friend to say, “How are you, really?” and mean it. Even if it’s just on a Blog.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
Help me to reach my funding goal before February 1st!
Just click on the photo below and click “BACK THIS PROJECT” to pre-order YOUR copy of The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition!
Jan 10, 2013 |
Dear Mom,
You know I love you. You know, next to my daughter, you’re the most important person to me on this earth. I love that we are Three Generations of Desert Women: strong, durable. Louis L’Amour would be the first to praise your character. How tough you are, how strong and resourceful and faithful and determined. You are our rock, our foundation, our example. You’ve taught us how to forge our way through instead of turning back to the comfort of mediocrity.
And I want to be just like you when I grow up. And I want to be you for my daughter.
The other day, two lovely old ladies came into the office. Let’s call them Beatrice and Victoria. They were wonderful. I watched them drive up in an older but well-cared for vehicle. The driver carefully stepped out and helped the other from the passenger seat. They slowly, gently walked up to the sidewalk and stepped into the office, laughing at how age has slowed their bodies but not their minds.
I knew instantly they were special. They were friends, good friends. Perhaps the best. They might even have been sisters; they looked similar and age had drawn them more alike in later years. Their crows’ feet were in the same place, their lips crinkled in the same way.
Victoria, the younger of the two, helped Beatrice into a chair then sat in the one next to her. They introduced themselves and it was then I realized Beatrice was the 92-year-old mother to 75-year-old Victoria.
They needed changes to their insurance policy. But they didn’t want one to incur the loss of discount by making the change. I offered several compromises, and as they sat at my desk discussing their options I could only think, “I want to be them.”
These wonderful women finished each others’ sentences. They smiled and laughed at conversations only they were aware of. And in the few minutes they were in my presence, I was enthralled with the closeness they exhibited. Their friendship, their care, and their attitude toward the world. These are two women who made it through many hard times, and didn’t let it get them down. These are two women who clung together and still manage to laugh at life.
Promise me, in another 40 years or so, we’ll still be just like them. Promise me we’ll laugh at these hard times, learn our lessons, and laugh out loud. A lot.
Promise me, when I’m older then than you are now, that we’ll still be best friends. And walk into someone’s office and make them smile.
And want to be just like us.
With much love, hugs, and laughter,
Your loving daughter,
~Me
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jan 8, 2013 |
December 14, 2012:
I received an email tonight. The kind that makes your heart flutter and your wings spread. And your stomach churn.
By the time you read this, it will all be over. Or, rather… it will just be beginning.
The local newspaper wants to interview me about my writing. About my Blog, my Business, and my Book. I already texted Megan. What wonderful timing. Just two days ago we agreed we’ve been stagnant too long and it’s time to get back to writing our Series. You long-time readers know what a long, hard year this has been for so many reasons. It’s nice to get back on track. Megan and I seem to do our best writing with a Starbucks or Denny’s in winter.
I’m waiting for the reporter to get back with me. I emailed her back with my work schedule. I contacted a few readers and friends, as the reporter asked for input from others.
And I’m trying to think of something profound to say when she interviews me. Something that will make the newspaper reader pay attention and say, “Wow. This Girl is goin’ places.”
But all I can think of is… it feels like I’m succeeding. And it scares me.
I’m used to not quite making it. I’m used to reaching too high, and falling a little short. I’m used to my little world staying little.
And all the while I cry for broader horizons.
Well. It seems the cosmos is listening to what I’m not saying.
The next morning:
I couldn’t sleep well last night. My mind is filled with so much. I have to clean the house. (So thankful Dot is now on winter break and can help with that!). What recipe can I give the paper to print?
Mostly, I’ve realized this: it’s out of my hands. I’m used to being the writer, not written about. I have no control over what other people say, or what the paper prints. And that jostles me out of my comfortable excitement.
In the past few weeks, my world continues to shift, grow, change. Aside from the writing, life in general is more amazing than it’s been in quite a while. I have a sense of confidence, of fundamental foundation that this is the way things are supposed to be. There’s no question mark in my mind causing me to second-guess my actions or my goals.
It’s hard to not be able to write everything out for the Blog, but some things are better kept for the journal. Still… life is getting pretty exciting right now.
December 25, 2012:
Merry Christmas.
The article was supposed to be printed today. It wasn’t. What a terrible disappointment. I woke up earlier than I usually do on this day and stole away into the dark sunrise looking for copies of the paper.
There were none to be found. Thankfully, it’s delivered with my mother’s regular newspaper subscription. That matters less than the beautiful sunrise I alone experienced. The only one on Main Street, driving east. The clouds building behind the mountains, pushing the cold blue sky into light.
On Christmas Day, all skies should be dark and stormy. And peaceful.
The Reporter tells me the article will be printed next Tuesday instead.
New Year’s Day.
No article.
While I’d love to revel in disappointment, which is not to say I’m not disappointed (I really am!), I’m also filled with a strong sense of this is the way it’s supposed to be. For whatever reason, I need to tell my friends and readers who have been contacted by the Reporter that I can’t express my awe and gratitude at their support and encouragement but their input is still unknown to the World At Large.
For now.
Once again I’m being told the article is being pushed back a week. In the meantime, I’ve been putting great effort into promoting my Kickstarter campaign, working on my Meal Plan for January (I’m so infatuated with WinCo Foods right now!), and talking more with Megan about the next chapter in our series. Dragons are such fun creatures!
Jan. 4, 2013
The furnace and/or thermostat isn’t working again.
Just another notch on the disappointment belt.
The funny thing is, even with all the stress of not being able to make ends meet and now needing at least a new thermostat and more likely, an expensive part for the furnace… I still feel optimistic. I knew for a few months that January would be an extremely difficult month to get through, financially. I didn’t think the cosmos would throw the dice and add more “fun” to the mix. But that’s the way it is… some people, like me, just naturally attract this kind of… roller-coaster.
And I’m okay with it. Because as tough as things have been, and will be, we have always managed to find our way through to the other side. Always. When we feel like Job, we know God hasn’t forgotten us. And someday, soon, His blessings will fall upon us and we’ll be better than before.
So as much as I want to be disappointed with everything… all I am right now, with a broken furnace, is cold.
Jan. 5, 2013
I’m tired. I’m. Just. Tired.
I couldn’t sleep because I kept hearing the furnace turn on. I’m not used to it working so efficiently, and I’m listening for it to malfunction. It hasn’t, of course. But it’s been so cold lately that now my car is having trouble starting… well, if it’s not one thing it’s another.
I used to not be the kind of person who would lose sleep over worries. But this last year has changed me. And with my eczema screaming from my arms, legs, and now my hands, I feel even more like Job with his afflictions.
I’ll be glad when this winter season is over.
January 7, 2013:
Is this The Night Before?
The article is supposed to be printed tomorrow. I think it will be: the editor asked the Reporter to ask me for a photo. Dot and I had a mini photo session this weekend. She’s so gifted with a camera. We have the same camera, and in the same room with the same lighting, her photos always turn out better. I absolutely love counting on her skills for this.
She said she didn’t need to be in the photo with me. I told her she did. It’s so very important that she be in the photo, in the paper with me. She’s my inspiration, the very reason I started cooking better meals for less. She’s my first, loudest, and longest cheerleader. She has to be in the paper with me.
I just got off the phone with Mom. I’ll be heading over to her place early tomorrow. She gets the paper but I don’t. So I’ll stop in early on my way to work and hopefully the article will be there.
Jan. 8th 5:23 a.m.
I always liked Tuesdays best.
I woke up earlier than usual. Before the alarm clock, even. I have no idea if I’m in the paper or not. I think I need this to boost my Kickstarter campaign. I’m just over 30% funded, which means I still have 2/3 of the way to go. And the pre-ordering/fundraising ends February 1.
So I’m a little nervous.
The article’s not online. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But I honestly wonder if it’s in today’s paper. If it’s not, this post gets delayed for yet another week. And the Campaign needs a booster shot through some other media.
If it is… I guess I’d better learn to not be afraid of success. Even in small doses.
To quote one of my favorite movie lines: “Baby steps, Bob. Baby steps.”
Well… I guess it’s time to get up and find out what kind of day it will be.
6:55 a.m.
It’s gonna be a good day.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
