Archive for October, 2011


too much

I sit downstairs and listen to my son cough upstairs; sitting in the quiet of the house, the ambient noises of a husband full of life. These are the moments I prepare for the coming week and reflect on the past few days. Sundays always become this spot on which to sit, sometimes freakishly worrying about what is to come, or strangely mulling over what is past. Yes, it is a bit of a neurosis. And though it sounds quite miserable, these nights have become a wonderful tender place in my life. And it is somewhat of a secret. Even to my husband, who lives within inches of my life and breath. It began when we lived in Denver and he was working nights. I would savor each moment of having the silent apartment to myself. Back then I was oh so structured in my Sundays. I would think, read, pray, write… I even had index cards I would go through and it was usually my Bible I was reading. That time seems a sweet world away.

Tonight I hear the dryer, the sound of dishes, and like I mentioned before, the then absent breath of two small precious beings. How ten years can change the life, heart, and soul.

Sundays are a cushion. It is a painful cushion at times on which to sit. But I always find myself sitting here.

Several years ago I would sit and cry tears of fear and unhappiness as I prepared for my next week at work, in a situation in which my soul was somewhat crushed. That was a year of awful Sundays.

These Sundays today are lighter and more peaceful. They are filled with less anxiety and more anticipation of that which is to happen. (Note to self: Anticipate lots of candy, a stained Halloween costume, a parent conference, a night with friends, and lots of bedtime stories.) Strangely, this week will leave me without my partner for a few days, and I know that I will have possibly too much of that sweet house silence.

With Sunday being that resting place, there is also the time on which to reflect. With a full week, lacking any major drama, ignorance is not an option when it comes to the mind. I often have a lack of self control when it comes to thinking. Literally, thinking is the thing that most fills my days and nights. Ironic, and possibly fitting to notice again what I titled this blog of mine. But the mind runs, and I seem to love to follow it, like a happy retriever, tail wagging. I find myself being led into wondrous places at times.

There is the ability to see the most beautiful qualities in people, one friend in particular who loves all children in a way that expresses true and lasting love. I watched her tonight at a birthday party love children well. She talked to them and smiled at them in the eyes. How she loves like that is a gift. She loves children who are not her own, and she does it without hesitation.

My own children, of course, light up my life with their curiosity, humor, and sensitivity. I sometimes can’t believe they are mine.

There is the gift of friendship, which I have been given in the form of various women. They are solid, admirable, and gracious. I have one friend who is a bit of a yin to my yang, and I found myself thinking on her thankfully and with surprise, as I realized I hadn’t always anticipated a friendship so strong with her. What a gift to have friends like these.

One of my common themes of thought that literally is a bit of my life-breath is this: there is the hope of things to be changed. Our world is so damaged and broken at this moment. I can’t help but be hopeful for ways in which it might change. I can’t help but hope that I will change my ways. I can’t help but visualize others having no choice but to finally choose what is right. I dream about this. I feel sometimes that I have had a moment of clarity on what it will take to really live the way I want, but then that moment escapes me. I try to write it down, but words aren’t the language in which these hopes are fulfilled. However, the hope itself is even somewhat satisfying, strangely. And in this sweet hope there also lies the bitter mystery of hope.

And that brings me to, the resting place of questioning, and sometimes anxiety, and sometimes despair.

When resting, and moving alike, I have been more convinced than ever of the utter hopelessness of where this world is going. I sound dramatic about this, I know. But I believe that there is something so big that is happening, and has been happening for years now, that I literally can’t fathom how things will ever change. Irreversible damage has been done. We can’t go back. But maybe change would help.

And the saddest thing is that I believe things must change. They have to.

Where to begin? Government, Education, Technology, the Church, Money, my friendships, my family…

I feel crazy putting my true thoughts out there, but Sundays, man, they take me to these places.

But I watch all of us roam this earth, and we all have too much. I have too much. We have too many things. We have too much sadness. We have too much control. We have too much money. We have too much food. We have too much to do. We have too much credit. We have too many choices. We have too much hatred. We have too much fear. We have too much to say. We have too much technology. We have too much guilt. We have too much noise. We have too much we hold onto.

But I still, when I am overcome with all this too much thinking, have too much hope of things that are to come.

Let me share with you this place of rest, this Sunday of contemplation in which I am thankful, thoughtful, and of course, hopeful – because that is the only way at times to deal with things that are too much.





currently reading

I know it seems a bit crazy, but I have three going right now. They are sitting each in a different room of the house. They are all incredible, in different ways.


this makes me laugh

Summer is just like this… often giggling to herself, or singing, and often covered in stickers or markers. She’s not crazy about the fact that she is playing soccer and would much rather make up songs than chase a ball at this point in her life. I have to swallow my competitive title 9 ego and will probably have to enroll her in dance or drama, things I would have despised as a little girl (no offense here to any of my dancing thespian friends.) She is a little bit of an enigma to me. I wouldn’t wear a skirt, she will only wear a skirt. I wanted short hair, she likes it long. She likes barbies, I was more interested in collecting rocks. She is my darling, sweet pumpkin, as I call her. She is still so young and innocent. Every day she gets on that giant school bus and rides away and returns a whole day older in a way. I am watching her grow and the time is moving so quickly. I have to remind myself to soak it up. Even the pouty, difficult moments. They are all gifts. She’s always got a twinkle in that eye, giggling at something irreverent, and singing a song only she knows. That’s my girl.



this is all I got

I acted a bit childish today. I lost control of my emotions with my husband. And I became difficult. And it exhausted me. I exhausted me.




I have been a little mia from the blogosphere recently, with good reason. Work has been busy, soccer season is here, and Davy and I got away from Houston for a long weekend.

I also have been challenged to write by some pretty amazing people, so of course, I am trying to procrastinate and dodge the bullet of failure in that department.

I’m not necessarily referring to blogging, but simply writing. This platform sometimes allows me the freedom to write, sometimes not.

Anyways, I have been absent.

Back to the point. The trip was awesome. We went to New York to visit our friends Curtis and Emily and just get away, sans kids.

So here is a little bit of a visual to show you our past weekend.

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