I posted recently about a longing for simpler times. I had plans of making some significant changes this summer. Well, plans don't always go as planned.
Shortly after that post, I found myself engrossed in about 1600 pages of a book series (one that I won't recommend here.) I spent my days with the TV off, relaxing music playing the background, and my nose in a book. I finished this series a few days ago, and something has changed. Every time I turn on the TV, every show seems too loud. It seems like an unwelcome interruption. I keep turning it off and going to the stereo, instead. I've done loads of housework. I've rearranged furniture. I've cleaned out drawers. I'm constantly looking for something to ward off the boredom. In this time, I've found a renewed love for Lionel Richie music, instrumental guitar versions of classics, and just quiet in general.
I have one of those brains that doesn't shut off. There's a constant chatter inside my head. I have to go to sleep with the TV on as a distraction for my brain. Otherwise, I might lie there and rehash every thought I've had that day, ponder the ills of the world, imagine scenarios of how conversations should have gone, etc. I've used the TV to silence my brain for years.
Oddly enough, over these recent days of quiet, my mind has also quieted. I feel a peace I hadn't before. I canceled about half of the channels on our satellite, and I deleted the Facebook app from my phone. I no longer get notified every time someone comments on one of my posts or likes one of my pictures or comments after me on someone else's post. And you know what? It's okay. All of those notifications are there waiting for me when I decide to take time out to get online and look. I haven't missed a single emergency.
I guess what I'm getting at is that, even in moments of boredom (discontentment,) I'm finding some of the sweetest contentment. When I fail to find anything to watch on TV, and I wander through the house looking for something to do, I feel pleased with myself. I'm happy to spend an hour playing with the kitties at the barn. I'm satisfied to just sit back and listen to old memories playing from the stereo. I feel accomplished to complete those household chores that I normally put off. Yes. Something has changed. I want less. Less noise. Less hum. Less mindless distraction. I'm living in this moment and in this place.
Sometimes it takes giving something up to find something else you didn't know you were missing.
Just for fun, here's a rundown of my go-to soundtrack for these relaxing days:
1. God Didn't Make Little Green Apples- Glen Campbell & Bobbie Gentry
2. The Rose- Bette Midler
3. Les Bicyclettes de Belsize- Engelbert Humperdinck
4. Last Date- Floyd Cramer
5. Sunshine on my Shoulders- John Denver
6. Flowers on the Wall- The Statler Bros.
7. Autumn Leaves- played by my brother, Brian Arnold
8. If- Bread
9. Wichita Lineman- Glen Campbell
10. Banana Boat Song- Harry Belafonte
11. Yesterday- The Beatles
12. Music Box Dancer- played by Brian
13. Time in a Bottle- Jim Croce
14. Do You Remember These?- The Statler Bros.
15. Edelweiss- played by Brian
16. Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White- Perez Prado & his orchestra
Monday, April 20, 2015
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Tend to your garden.
I've mentioned before that my husband does not know when to stop expanding our "yard." It seems like he adds to it every year. When he's gone on the road to work, I am left to mow it. I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say our yard can best be measured in acres (yes, that's plural.) I love spring and the rebirth of everything that appeared to have died over the winter. Sure, my allergies flare up, and the grass begins to call my name. Still, I love the hope that comes with this season.
I woke up on this particular morning with a determination to get our mower started and do the first mowing of the year. To my surprise, the mower easily started once I added a little gas to it. Yes! My plan was going to come together. I quickly grabbed my phone, put my earbuds in, and pulled my hair back. I didn't even take time to put on "real" clothes. Pajamas would do nicely. I was actually enjoying the peacefulness of sitting on the mower with music playing loudly in my ears. I finished the part closest to the house in front and headed for the field across the drive. Just as the poem says, "the best-laid plans of mice and men...," my plans would go awry. The mower suddenly died and refused to go any further.
While I was on the mower and listening to some of my favorite music, I was thinking about the necessity of mowing. I also thought of how I'd like to have pretty flower beds to decorate the yard. I reminded myself of how much work is involved to keep flower beds pretty. No matter what steps you take, it seems weeds always find their way into flower beds. If you want to keep your beds nice and pretty, you must weed them out regularly. I know myself better than anyone, and I know that I hate to weed flower beds. It wouldn't be too bad if I'd just commit to doing it daily, but I inevitably wait until the weeds multiply and become a much bigger hassle to deal with. I lose interest and give the beds over to the weeds.
Similarly, we all have "weeds" in our lives. They pop up randomly and threaten to take over if we don't tend to them. Some weeds are easily removed. Others, if given the opportunity, take root and are difficult to get rid of. If we are not careful, the weeds will start to choke out the beautiful things in our garden. We may think that it won't hurt to leave those weeds for another day, but if we aren't careful, we can become overwhelmed by them. What kinds of "weeds" are littering your garden? Will you pluck them out while you can, or will you let them take root in you? I pray that I might be aware of the things/people that are weeds in my life and that I will remove them before they choke out the more precious things I care about.
I woke up on this particular morning with a determination to get our mower started and do the first mowing of the year. To my surprise, the mower easily started once I added a little gas to it. Yes! My plan was going to come together. I quickly grabbed my phone, put my earbuds in, and pulled my hair back. I didn't even take time to put on "real" clothes. Pajamas would do nicely. I was actually enjoying the peacefulness of sitting on the mower with music playing loudly in my ears. I finished the part closest to the house in front and headed for the field across the drive. Just as the poem says, "the best-laid plans of mice and men...," my plans would go awry. The mower suddenly died and refused to go any further.
While I was on the mower and listening to some of my favorite music, I was thinking about the necessity of mowing. I also thought of how I'd like to have pretty flower beds to decorate the yard. I reminded myself of how much work is involved to keep flower beds pretty. No matter what steps you take, it seems weeds always find their way into flower beds. If you want to keep your beds nice and pretty, you must weed them out regularly. I know myself better than anyone, and I know that I hate to weed flower beds. It wouldn't be too bad if I'd just commit to doing it daily, but I inevitably wait until the weeds multiply and become a much bigger hassle to deal with. I lose interest and give the beds over to the weeds.
Similarly, we all have "weeds" in our lives. They pop up randomly and threaten to take over if we don't tend to them. Some weeds are easily removed. Others, if given the opportunity, take root and are difficult to get rid of. If we are not careful, the weeds will start to choke out the beautiful things in our garden. We may think that it won't hurt to leave those weeds for another day, but if we aren't careful, we can become overwhelmed by them. What kinds of "weeds" are littering your garden? Will you pluck them out while you can, or will you let them take root in you? I pray that I might be aware of the things/people that are weeds in my life and that I will remove them before they choke out the more precious things I care about.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Stop. Feel the words.
Tonight's blog is the simplest I've ever written. I was watching The Voice when I heard one of the contestants sing a favorite hymn of mine. I stopped folding the laundry and had a moment of worship, right there in my bedroom. I cried tears of joy while raising my hands to Heaven. It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. There is always time for worship. I've heard this song so many times in my life. It's my go-to song for moments of great stress, sadness, disappointments. I feel these lyrics deep in my soul. So, please, stop. Take a moment. Feel these words.
O Lord, my God....
when I, in awesome wonder, consider ALL the worlds Thy hands have made.
I see the stars. I hear the rolling thunder. Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
And when I think of God, His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in.
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away MY sin.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation and lead me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow, with humble adoration. And then proclaim, "My God, how great Thou art!"
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Each of the pictures above are ones I've taken right outside my own door. You don't have to go far to find the evidence of God's greatness. I hope we can each take more time from every day to appreciate the work of our Lord around us and feel His presence in our lives. How great He is!
O Lord, my God....
when I, in awesome wonder, consider ALL the worlds Thy hands have made.
I see the stars. I hear the rolling thunder. Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
And when I think of God, His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in.
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away MY sin.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation and lead me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow, with humble adoration. And then proclaim, "My God, how great Thou art!"
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee...How great Thou art. How great Thou art.
Each of the pictures above are ones I've taken right outside my own door. You don't have to go far to find the evidence of God's greatness. I hope we can each take more time from every day to appreciate the work of our Lord around us and feel His presence in our lives. How great He is!
Friday, April 3, 2015
Gather Up the Pieces
This is a sappy post. You've been warned. Turn away now if you're just not in the mood.
I'm sure, at one time or another, we've all picked a dandelion and blown at the seeds to see them fly away. It's exciting to see the little seeds drift in all different directions and just kind of disappear. Most of us outgrow this fascination once we are responsible for taking care of our own lawn.
I don't have a lot of friends. Let me qualify that statement by saying that I know a lot of lovely people and like them a lot. I know a lot of people that would be helpful to me in any way I might need. I'm thankful for these people in my life. When I say I don't have a lot of friends, I'm talking about those rare people that you give a piece of yourself to, thinking they can be trusted to keep and care for it.
I think I come across to most people as being a bit hard and cynical. In many ways, I am. Those that know me the best know that I'm actually a tangled mess of emotions. I care deeply and cautiously. When I decide to give you a piece of my heart, you have it for life.
I started handing out little pieces of myself very young. Family, of course, were the first ones I trusted with a part of me. There was my first best friend. He and his dad both still hold a special place in my heart. Then there were the families that my family spent weekend nights visiting, Sunday mornings in pews together, and Sunday afternoons sharing lunch with. (By the way, I do know that sentences shouldn't end with prepositions, but that's how I talk, so get over it.) That first boy in class to catch my eye, back in first grade. The first girl that invited me for a sleepover in second grade. The girl that would become my closest friend and confidant for years to come. The first boy I kissed in a game of Truth or Dare. The first boy I kissed to be kissing. The little girl that once asked if I could be her real mommy and broke my heart. The little boy that would crawl up in my teenage lap at church and sit so quietly. They all took pieces of various sizes. The list goes on and on and on...
Now, here I sit wondering where all of these little pieces of me are. I often feel like the dandelion stem, stripped of its seeds and tossed aside, nothing left to give. I've sent all of these little pieces out onto the wind and so few remain close. I wish I could gather up all of the little pieces and ask each one, "What did I bring to you? Is there any value left in the piece you took with you?" We all know the dandelion can't be stitched back together, though. Be cautious when choosing who you give those precious pieces of yourself to. Find the ones that will still be near when you're old and feeling particularly lonely. The best ones always come back around and never go too far, but they are rare, indeed.
I'm sure, at one time or another, we've all picked a dandelion and blown at the seeds to see them fly away. It's exciting to see the little seeds drift in all different directions and just kind of disappear. Most of us outgrow this fascination once we are responsible for taking care of our own lawn.
I don't have a lot of friends. Let me qualify that statement by saying that I know a lot of lovely people and like them a lot. I know a lot of people that would be helpful to me in any way I might need. I'm thankful for these people in my life. When I say I don't have a lot of friends, I'm talking about those rare people that you give a piece of yourself to, thinking they can be trusted to keep and care for it.
I think I come across to most people as being a bit hard and cynical. In many ways, I am. Those that know me the best know that I'm actually a tangled mess of emotions. I care deeply and cautiously. When I decide to give you a piece of my heart, you have it for life.
I started handing out little pieces of myself very young. Family, of course, were the first ones I trusted with a part of me. There was my first best friend. He and his dad both still hold a special place in my heart. Then there were the families that my family spent weekend nights visiting, Sunday mornings in pews together, and Sunday afternoons sharing lunch with. (By the way, I do know that sentences shouldn't end with prepositions, but that's how I talk, so get over it.) That first boy in class to catch my eye, back in first grade. The first girl that invited me for a sleepover in second grade. The girl that would become my closest friend and confidant for years to come. The first boy I kissed in a game of Truth or Dare. The first boy I kissed to be kissing. The little girl that once asked if I could be her real mommy and broke my heart. The little boy that would crawl up in my teenage lap at church and sit so quietly. They all took pieces of various sizes. The list goes on and on and on...
Now, here I sit wondering where all of these little pieces of me are. I often feel like the dandelion stem, stripped of its seeds and tossed aside, nothing left to give. I've sent all of these little pieces out onto the wind and so few remain close. I wish I could gather up all of the little pieces and ask each one, "What did I bring to you? Is there any value left in the piece you took with you?" We all know the dandelion can't be stitched back together, though. Be cautious when choosing who you give those precious pieces of yourself to. Find the ones that will still be near when you're old and feeling particularly lonely. The best ones always come back around and never go too far, but they are rare, indeed.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)