From Where I Sit

I'd rather be at the library.

But when I pulled into the library parking lot this morning, I realized it was closed.

Libraries should never, ever, ever be closed. Ever.

So I'm here, in a busy breakfast joint instead - trying to sort out life.

I'd prefer to be surrounded by books than the bustle of all these people, so I thought about just heading home.

But I have business and emails and lesson plans to attend to - and being at home doing those things doesn't always pan out to be productive at all.

Therefore, the smell of burnt breakfast sandwiches and flavored coffee is in the air. Babies are crying, groups of people are meeting, the clang of the cafe dish abounds.

I am grateful for ear buds and iTunes radio at this point.

The Ohio trip has ended, leaving me glad for the hellos - but also leaving me gripping a mile high to-do list to sift through, all the worries waiting on me that I had before I left, plus some.

Rain is falling, the cloud cover is hovering low, flash flood warnings are going off on everyone's cell phones.

The weather fits my mood, really.

I feel so very small today.

So very, very small.

And somewhat incapable.

And maybe even a tad lost.

And busted.

I feel like a few bubbles have been busted.

At 32, I look back and I look around and I look forward from where I currently sit - and I feel weird.

So much of what I thought I would accomplish, I never did.

And no wonder. I was always a really good dreamer, but a pretty lousy doer.

So much of what I envisioned for my life - isn't what has come to fruition.

That isn't necessarily bad.

It's just weird.

Pondering in this way - leaves me feeling strange, true.

But please do hear that I also feel thankful. Thankful for the good things I do have, and the bad things I don't. Thankful for the good that has happened, and for the terrible that didn't.

So while I'm at this cafe tending to the everyday mundane - lists, messages, curriculum.... I'm also thinking about where I go from here - in the big picture.

What should I continue?
What should I drop?
What dreams do I hold onto?
Which ones do I hush?
What desires are good and noble?
Which ones are haughty and selfish?
What in  the world should I be working toward?

Asking God to reveal Himself to me.

Also asking that He would reveal me to me.

Autumn

I'm leaning back on a velvet crimson pillow embroidered with a golden stitched crown.

My feet are propped and crossed under a fine quilted throw.

There are magazines picked out just for me - sitting in the chair to my left.

There is a ham hot in the oven, a plate of snickerdoodles on the counter, a sky high carrot cake in the frig, egg nog in a glass serving bowl, and a woman mixing chocolate icing for brownies in the kitchen.

This can only mean one thing.....

I am at my mother-in-law's house.

Ah, Ohio.

You've been full and frantic this trip, but you have been sweet and fine and welcoming, too.

We've been all over the southern most part of this state - visiting places, hugging necks, popping in on people to say our quick hellos.

It's been three years now... that Ohio isn't home. Texas is our base these days, and I'm glad for it.

The Buckeye State is a great place to go back to, however.

It has these hills.

Hills peppered with red, yellow, orange, maroon, deep royal purple.

This place is a kaleidoscope.

Even since we've arrived - we have watched the colors of the leaves deepen.

All that chlorophyll fleeing so that the true colors of the tree can be seen and shown off to all.

And may we be like them!...

Shedding what's been covering up and shutting out who He made us to be!

Dropping brokenness that has covered up our true colors!

Yes, God. Give everyone reading this a revelation of who You are, of who we are, of what a healthy us looks like. Give us a glimpse of how You see us. Tell us the truth of our identity and condition. We want to be who You wove us to be. Heal damage. Heighten our awareness. Have faith flourish this fall. And let what You reveal and show and surface - deepen into such a fine hue.

I really, really need this from You.

Last Saturday

You can’t creep up on people in an old cabin.

Wood from the 1800’s creeks and cracks, making it hard to sneak.

Thankfully.

I have a few jokesters in my crew who like to creep up on their Mama every now and then. Due to the old flooring, I’ve been forwarned our whole stay.

This morning I slipped out of bed early to rummage around as quietly as I could to pack the bag for a rock climb.

The oldest was up already. He’s our resident rooster - always strutting around wide-eyed at day-break.

After a pastry breakfast...we locked up the cabin, loaded ourselves into the van, and headed out to a nearby state park to tackle a trail of granite.

It was conquered by all five of us, and we were rewarded with a remarkable view at the peak.

I didn’t know Texas could look like that.

Green hills, red cliffs, peaks and points all over.

God’s grandeur at it’s southern finest. 

All that energy spent and gone, we went to the local airport diner for lunch afterward.

The smell of oil, the sound of single engine propellors, the scene of pipers and cessnas and bonanzas all lined up along a runway - it took me right back.

My Daddy used to fly me to small municipal airports, buy me a shake, and putter and poke around the airport property with me before winging back home again.

These are among some of my most favorite and treasured memories.

Right now, I’ve traded the old desk for the front porch.

Debussy is coming from the laptop speakers.

The boys are flying paper planes around the cabin’s yard, and the girl is swaying barefoot and pretty in the swing to my left.

The wedding is this eve, so I better head in to curl hair and look descent. My husband will be looking quite dapper - so I think the pastor’s wife should at least try to match.

Tomorrow is our last day out here in these hills - but I’ve been storing it up, and etching it out, and imprinting it on my memory - so all I’ve gathered will be traveling the trek back home, too.

Store the good things up in your hearts, friends. And offer up all the other stuff to a God who is willing to take them for you.

Away

I wonder how many letters have been written at this old dark desk.

How many notes of affection, business transactions, letters of love to family in some far off town somewhere.

It’s an antique. All high and broad and stoic.

I’m always drawn to desks.

Furniture stores, flea markets, homes of friends - I feel a sort of connection with them….imagining writing something fine on their flat tops.

So when the family and I turned the key, and roamed each room of this place - I saw this desk here - situated next to an old fireplace in the master suite, and knew I’d found my writing place.

We’re out of town, staying in a cabin on the fringes of this fair town - so that my husband can officiate a wedding tomorrow. The precious couple purchased us this rented space to enjoy during our stay.

Bless them.

My children have gone absolutely wild and have felt so free since we arrived yesterday.

There are arching old oaks, and dozens of deer, and sheep and a donkey - just outside our door.

We have a porch with rockers and a swing - and we feel like we may just be in Mayberry.

But the world didn’t go away when I walked into this getaway.

I’m noticing that I brought worries and maladies right along with me. Different location. Same concerns.

But this little change of pace is affording me more time to pray and offer up those things - and I’m trusting that the load feels lighter each day we roam these parts. 

And I’m going out on a limb and asking for this great God I know - to go ahead and do some drastic miracles in me while I’m here.

Yes and amen.

It’s early. 

There’s a cloud cover and puddles on the small back road out front.

The kids are ‘adventuring’…as my middle child has coined it…. walking the property in pajamas, catching amphibians, and exploring this small plot of country Texas.

Today holds sweetness, I’m sure.

We plan to visit quaint shops, and taste German pastries, and take in new things before the husband does his duty at the rehearsal dinner this eve.

I shouldn’t say duty….it isn’t one. 

He loves this - one of his favorite parts of being a pastor now - walking couples through pre-marital coaching and officially forging their bond at the ceremony… he is crazy for this gig.

I better slip on shoes and slowly find my way into my day.

I’ll be back to pay another visit to my desk-friend here soon.