The gift of Clarity.

**big exhale**

Road trips have a way of helping me find my bearings.

Even though I love this place we call "home," while I'm away from it I tend to gain a little perspective ... a fresh view (that perhaps I'd lost over the longest. winter. ever.)

My adventurous spirit craved a change of scenery, a warmer climate, time spent with friends who speak with just a hint of a southern drawl. It was just what I needed for spring break this year, and lucky me! The weather timed things perfectly so that we missed the last of the snow showers while we were gone and the snow was almost completely melted from the yard by the time we got back.

While the kids and I were out in West Virginia visiting Steve last week we fell asleep to the sound of the peepers each night and woke up to birds singing every morning. It was heavenly. And sure enough, we're hearing them here at home now, too. Bliss.

This time around, despite the kids getting in a large helping of bickering during the days we didn't leave the campground, I came home feeling refreshed and with a renewed - or strengthened, maybe - sense of purpose. I have struggled over decisions made and directions chosen, but lately I feel like we're on track. I pray often for guidance - as a wife, a mom, a Christian, a friend, a steward - and while there is always room for improvement, today I have a sense of peace.

Dunkard Creek, near our campsite

We got some great family time in during our visit. We ate dinners together. The kids and I went shopping at the mall one day and Rachel finally got to spend her birthday money. I met up with and had a great visit with my girlfriend, Heather. One rainy afternoon Rach and I got hot cocoa and coffee and went on a book binge (lots of summer reading material!). We did a lot of chilling out, napping, reading (me), playing video games (the kids), and just enjoying the break.

My loves.

(This photo pretty well defines how different they are.)

 Camp chickens!

The girls were hanging out right around our trailer when we got there the first afternoon. Steve joked that he had them brought in specially for me, because he knew how much I'd love it.

 I did enjoy watching them scratching around all week!

Rachel enjoyed some quality time with our buddy's Basset Hound, Daisy.

Sweet ride, Sammy.

I'm always sad to have to leave Steve, but at the same time I leave happier because I have been with him. Back here at home I smile at some of the memories we made during this trip, and I look forward to being together as a family again when Steve comes home for Easter.

In lots of little ways I am continually reminded of what is important in my life - what is and what should be. And I am forever grateful that I am able to share my life - however unconventional our lifestyle may be - with these people I adore.

When the message smacks you right in the face.

Some weeks ago a friend posted on Facebook asking if anyone was interested in a Bible study based on the book "7" by Jen Hatmaker.

I jumped. Not only have I been craving a little more time spent in and studying The Word, but this part-time journalist/full-time mama and homemaker could really use a regular date with a few other adult women.

Fast forward a few weeks to now. I dive into 7 and I am immediately convicted.

I'm laughing, because Jen Hatmaker is hysterical and I adore her girl-in-the-next-pew, nobody's-perfect style. I am devouring the book. But I am also stopping every few paragraphs, going back and re-reading, reflecting on my own life, my family's consumerist habits and the very basic things we take for granted like all the clean water we could want and a warm, secure place to sleep at night.

(Go ahead. If you haven't already, Google Jen Hatmaker. I'll wait.) 

Reading this book now is perfect timing for me. Steve has been off work since the week of Thanksgiving, and probably won't be starting his next project until after the first of the year. This wasn't unexpected. We knew he would have some time off this winter, and I actually looked forward to having him here at home through the holidays.

Even when it's expected, though, is it ever really a good time to be unemployed (read: without a steady income)? And listen. I am the kind of girl who needs the threat of that looming deadline to get my butt in gear. I try to sock money away all year long for occasions such as this, but it seems like about the time we have a good chunk in the savings account the wheels fall off. Sometimes literally. Repairs on pickup trucks are expensive, and pickups are what we have. Household repairs aren't cheap, either. Home ownership is not for sissies ... or anyone who gets a little anxious when the numbers don't compute the way you want them to. *ahem* And don't even get me started on the expenses of raising children.

So when Steve came home we knew we'd have to go into survival mode, trimming the fat clean out of the budget and making every penny count. He did apply for unemployment benefits which equal about the same amount per week that he was earning in 1995 - when he was single and childless and still lived with his parents. It's at least a nice supplement to the last paycheck that will roll in this month, and all together it will be enough for us to make it to the next paycheck - whenever that is - well-fed and with our sanity (relatively) intact.

But what if it wasn't enough?

Seriously?! (Now I'm talking to myself.) How could we EVER not have enough?

I know there are folks living in poverty all around us. I know many go without food and shelter on a regular basis for reasons out of their control. I know that if I were in their shoes looking at me and my family I would think we were wealthy. Sadly, I often get stuck in the mindset that we are not.

As Jen H. explores in the book, I too often struggle with the "why" of my lot in life. Why am I so fortunate to have been born in the richest country in the world? Why have I had such a wonderful life, never knowing what it's like to go hungry or to not be able to see a doctor when I'm sick? It makes me a little bit ashamed of where we are right now, today: watching Monday Night Football on a large screen, kids tucked into their comfy beds, my bare feet not cold at all despite the chill outside, refrigerator packed with food, some of which will no doubt be tossed in the trash because half the members of this household don't like leftovers.

Yes. We occasionally throw food away because we can't eat it all before it goes bad or starts growing fuzz. This is not ok!!

And this is why I'm feeling convicted. We need to be better stewards of the resources we've been blessed with always, not just when we're feeling the squeeze. AND (and this comes from yours truly, Ms. Pare Down and Simplify herself) we need to stop filling every little empty space in our home and in our souls with stuff. If we busy ourselves filling those gaps where's the room for God to do His work in us?

It's definitely something to ponder, and I have been giving it much thought these last few days. Well ... our "more is more" lifestyle  - and that's a collective "our" as in "Americans" - has been on my mind a lot lately, especially with Christmas coming up, but Jen's book is pushing me to examine my own family's habits a little more closely.

I'm halfway through the book. Who knows, I could end up hating the idea of her experimental mutiny against excess by the time I get to the end. I doubt it, though. I'll keep you posted.

Fake it 'til you make it.

There was this time during my college days that for some reason Steve was on campus with me ... probably a weekend when we went to see a play or something, as I was the editor of the entertainment section of the college newspaper and covered a lot of productions and visiting artists. As we worked our way around campus, he would hang back while I approached people for interviews, and at some point Steve commented to me that he didn't know how I could just walk up to people and start talking to them and asking questions.

I took it as an amazing compliment from my boyfriend-at-the-time, this guy who had already gone out into the world and begun to make a living for himself. Someone I looked up to.

I've remembered that moment all these years, and while that feather in my cap is a little dusty these days I still think of how I felt that day - how proud I was - at times when I need a little boost in morale. I was a confident gal and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. Through four-plus years of college I never once wavered in my choice of majors - it was journalism all the way, baby.

Fast forward a few (or several) years through graduating college, getting married and having a baby, landing that job as a reporter - not the dream job with National Geographic, but the dream job at the hometown daily - and then buying a house and having another baby. Life happened in all kinds of ways and after just a few years in my dream career I felt called to be at home with those babies. So in my head and in my heart I made a plan, and I prayed that God would open doors for our family and allow it to happen.

You know what having children does to you? It humbles you. It reminds you that you are a very small player in this Great Big World and oh, by the way, you're probably doing it all wrong.

It also messes with your hormones. Looking back, I'm pretty sure a smidge of post-partum depression kept its gnarly fingers wrapped around my brain and blocking my face from the sunshine for months after Rachel was born. But that's a whole series of posts for another time.

My point here is ... somewhere along the way I lost my mojo. I still loved writing, but I didn't like being a reporter anymore. So after many sleepless nights, countless conversations with Steve about it, lots of analyzing and re-analyzing, I jumped ship. I continued to (and still do) write a column for the newspaper a couple times a month, but I left my desk in the newsroom for a job where I could still use my communications skills without being so "out there" anymore. Then after three years at that job, I finally made the leap to being a full-time mom and homemaker.

My last day at work was April 2, 2008.

Last week, five years to the day later - and more than eight years after leaving the ol' newspaper biz - I picked up my reporter's notebook again.

It was not without much consternation.

It's not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. The gig, I mean. It's part-time (read: whenever they call). I can take assignments or pass on them depending on my schedule or ... I dunno, whether I really feel like doing it. And it's certainly not going to make me rich. But I swear I stopped breathing for a second when I got that e-mail asking if I was interested. Because somewhere along the way that confident college gal began to wonder if she was really good enough. All the compliments and kudos in the world weren't enough to counter the few silly mistakes I'd made that only I remember and the biting criticisms that stuck with me and chipped away at that armor I had surrounded myself with ... that thick skin every budding journalist is told they'll need to develop. I hated admitting that I had burned out on my career before I had even hit the age of 30. Sticking my toes in the water again made me feel vulnerable. Just the thought of starting over again, albeit on a very limited basis, was daunting.

Steve jokes that when I have a problem it becomes everyone's problem. What can I say? My mama taught me to share. I am anxious and an over-analyzer by nature, but over the years I have developed my own coping mechanisms, one of which is to hash it out either with a loved one (or three) or on paper (or keyboard). Fortunately I am blessed with a handful of amazing friends who collectively understand what it feels like to live with anxiety like I do, the sometimes crushing responsibility of telling other people's stories to the world (and getting them right) day after day, and the energy it takes to ignore that inner voice that loves nothing more than to fuel the flames of self doubt.

And man, I love to write. And I love to listen to people. This is my God-given talent; there is no doubt in my mind about that. So the nerves and the juggling things at home to create my own work space and time ... they are worth it. Because as much as I try to calm the chaos of our everyday lives - the kind of chaos that comes with daddy working on the road, me virtually single-parenting, and a house full of kids and animals - there is a special kind of rush that comes from taking a pile of scribbled notes from half a dozen interviews and weaving those words together into a cohesive and relate-able story, on a deadline. That never gets old.

So ... this will be an adventure for me. For my whole family, probably, because ... ya' know ... I'm so good at sharing.

*ahem*

But I'm doing it for me.  And I will be just fine.

Simple pleasures.

The focus verse for today in my little book of devotions is from a section of John 12.

The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. (verse 3)

The devotion is all about accepting not only the grand gestures of God, but the simple pleasures of life, too.

" ... no less important are the daily acts of mercy that make the world a kinder and more satisfying home. This, too, is faithfulness: the loving touch, the sweet fragrance in the home, the visual art that adorns the wall."

It seems appropriate for today. We're having an early spring and everything is green. It's been raining the past couple of days and it smells so fresh. I have a vase of daffodils on my table and they make me smile.

Receiving the gifts of the day. Enjoying the little things.

Today I look around and I see so many simple pleasures. And I am thankful.

Post Christmas lull ... and good news!

Two days after Christmas and it still kinda' looks like Santa's elves had a party up in here. And I am just now starting to feel like the cookies and candies and cheese and crackers and all that good stuff is beginning to wear off.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. We sure did. It was quiet - on Christmas Eve we made our annual cookie deliveries to neighbors/friends, then went to the candlelight service at church, then hung out at my in-laws' and did our gift exchange with them. Christmas morning the kids slept until a little after 7:30 (a Christmas miracle!) and then the four of us opened gifts and spent the rest of the day just enjoying each other's company. Sam was so happy with his new ski goggles and helmet that he wore them around the house most of the day, thoroughly cracking me up.

More than ever before, I just can't express how happy I am to be surrounded by family and friends this year. We have been blessed beyond measure.

It's been so nice to laze around and do a whole lot of nothing these last few days, but I'm feeling the pull to get back into a routine and get the house cleaned up and all the baubles put away. Just in time, I suppose, as Steve got the call today that he's been waiting for: he's starting a new job next week. Praise God. And that's all I'm gonna' say about that for now.

In other news, for the first time in ... shoot, maybe ever ... Steve and I have plans to go out on New Year's Eve! Neither of us is really into large gatherings of people, but we're going to brave it for one night to go out with another couple to dinner and then to our little town's version of a NYE ball drop. It will be nice to do something with just the adults, and I imagine this will be a bit of an early celebration for Steve's birthday (which is January 6th and by that time he'll be in Pennsylvania working).

I'm looking forward to 2012. This year has been a great year in many ways for our family, but I'm ready to leave some of the struggles behind, take what we've learned from them, and put some positive energy into making the year ahead even better than this one.

Like a kid on Christmas morning.

I had trouble sleeping last night. Too much caffeine, maybe. Full moon shining through the skylights, maybe. But mostly because my mind was racing with excitement. I had spent a couple hours few minutes on Pinterest (hellooo, time suck) (proof: I just opened up the page to copy and link the address and spent 5 minutes there. Psh.) looking at all kinds of ideas for little baking projects and fun crafts to do with the kids while they are off for Christmas break. They are done with school after next Friday which leaves several days before Christmas to keep them busy.

I found some neat recipes for edible "gifts in a jar" and easy chocolate-dipped whatever-you-can-think-of with lots of little goodies sprinkled over them. Sam and Rachel both enjoy spending time in the kitchen, so I'm really looking forward to it. So ... if you stop by our house around Christmas this year you'll definitely get your sugar buzz for the day. Zing!

Leading up to vacation time, I've been working on cleaning and decorating the house for the holidays. We don't have a whole lot of storage space for holiday-specific decor, so I'm getting creative and using things we already have combined with everyday items. For some reason it feels like this year I'm a little more relaxed about getting all this stuff done, and that's kinda' nice. But apparently I can be relaxed and abuzz at the same time because as soon as I crawl into bed at night my mind goes crazy with all kinds of ideas to try the next day. I might get brave and post some pictures of our decor in the next few days.

Beyond that, last night I tossed and turned with excitement about a new prospect I'm finally moving on. For a few years I've been considering creating a gift-wrapping business for folks who don't have the time, don't enjoy, or just plain stink at wrapping gifts. It's something I really enjoy doing, so even if I don't charge a bundle I'll be coming out ahead ... and making a little spending money. A couple of friends have taken me up on the offer and this morning I picked up the first round of gifts I will wrap and then deliver back. I'm excited about getting started.

And maybe something in me knew today would be ... different. We've had a rough go of things these last couple of months and while our family is blessed in so many ways, Christmas gift giving would be tight this year. I had made peace with that. It's not about the gift giving anyway, right? But today we received some unexpected "contributions" to the Christmas budget. Gifts that will allow us to do a little more for our kids than we would have been able to otherwise.

What can I say? I am humbled. Thankful. Fortunate enough to live in a community and have family and friends who will rally to help others who need it. I know this because many times we have been on the giving end. The receiving end is decidedly less comfortable, but no less touching or heart-warming. And the kindness of others is not taken lightly in this house; I believe blessings will be showered upon those who give so generously.

That's certainly been the case for us.

Increasing our (God-given) talents.

I usually reserve my Sunday writing until later in the day, but I had to sit down and make note of this before it slips my mind.

With Sam doing his man thing hanging out with the guys at deer camp, and Rachel having spent the night at Nana's last night (and me too battle weary to want to force her to get up and be ready) I went to church alone this morning. My preference is always to have my family beside me, but these occasional days when I attend worship by myself are a bit of a treat, too. (Shhh! Don't tell the kids.) I'm able to listen without distraction and focus on my own actions rather than always pointing out where we are in the hymns or coaxing tired kiddos to stand when appropriate.

As it turned out, this morning was the perfect time for me to be able to soak it all in because I really needed to hear the Gospel lesson for today.

In the book of Matthew, chapter 25, verses 14-30 we read the parable of talents. In short, three slaves were given unequal portions of their master's money. While the master was away, two of the slaves increased what they were given and when the master returned he praised them for increasing his wealth. The third slave didn't fair so well.

"And the one also who had received the one talent came up and said, 'Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you scattered no seed. And I was afraid, and went away and hid your talent in the ground. See, you have what is yours.'" (v. 24-25)

Because the third did nothing with what he was given - except bury it - the master called him wicked and lazy, suggested he could have at least invested that money to earn some interest, and took back from the slave the little he had been given.

"For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away. Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (v. 29-30)

"Fear robbed him of his potential," our pastor said.

Fear robbed him of his potential.

Something to think about: what "talent" is planted in you? Are you allowing it to grow, or is fear causing you to bury it?

We as Christians are all blessed with the gift of faith. We are not all equally blessed with talents (or money or beauty or children or fill-in-the-blank). It is our responsibility to nurture the talent (or money, etc.) we are given to make it thrive and to honor God. So that when our Father does the final tally we can say, "See? You gave me this and I turned it into this."

And He will respond, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Just needed to share this one.

2 Peter 1:4 

In this way he has given us the very great and precious gifts he promised, so that by means of these gifts you may escape from the destructive lust that is in the world, and may come to share the divine nature.

Last night as I climbed into bed exhausted from a day spent outdoors gardening, I felt the pull to grab a book I keep on my bedside table, My Utmost for His Highest.

This is a book of daily spiritual readings compiled from shorthand notes of Bible teacher Oswald Chambers' lectures. I don't read it every day. Well, I do for periods of a week or two at a time, but it gets to be a little overwhelming for me. It calls for a whole lot of self-examination and, admittedly, there are some days when I just don't want to dig that deep.

But then there are nights like last night when I feel like I'm not quite through with what I'm supposed to do for the day, so I pick it up.

After what I wrote in my last post about abundance, while still - and always - having that nugget, however small, of "what if" and worry in the back of my mind, I found Chambers' words last night quite apropos.

The reading for May 16 says, in part:

"We think it is a sign of true humility to say at the end of the day, 'Well, I just barely got by today, but it was a severe struggle.' And yet all of Almighty God is ours in the Lord Jesus! And He will reach to the last grain of sand and the remotest star to bless us if we will only obey Him. Does it really matter that our circumstances are difficult? Why shouldn't they be! If we give way to self-pity and indulge in the luxury of misery, we remove God's riches from our lives and hinder others from entering into His provision. No sin is worse than the sin of self-pity, because it removes God from the throne of our lives, replacing Him with our own self-interests. It causes us to open our mouths only to complain and we simply become spiritual sponges - always absorbing, never giving, and never being satisfied. And there is nothing lovely or generous about our lives.

Before God becomes satisfied with us, He will take everything of our so-called wealth, until we learn that He is our Source; as the psalmist said, 'All my springs are in You' (Psalm 87:7). If the majesty, grace, and power of God are not being exhibited in us, God holds us responsible. 'God is able to make all grace abound toward you, that you ... may have an abundance ...' (2 Corinthians 9:8) - then learn to lavish the grace of God on others, generously giving of yourself. Be marked and identified with God's nature, and His blessing will flow through you all the time."

I am challenged by those words in a couple of ways. First, I recognize that I have a duty to see every aspect of life as a gift, every circumstance as something delivered with a purpose. Second, I am reminded that all the "wealth" in my life comes from one source: to God be the glory.

It was a lot for my exhausted brain to chew on last night, and it still is today. But what a wonderfully-timed reminder.

Devotions.

I have a small book of daily devotions that I picked up at church. Each day it offers a Bible verse for the day, an anecdote or explanation from one of several pastors chosen to write in each edition, a short prayer, and a couple of other supporting verses to look up. I like this format. It's not too much for me to absorb while I drink a cup of coffee to wake up in the morning, or after I fall into bed late at night after a busy day. And it helps me work my way through the Bible piece by piece, in small bites, rather than trying to plow through it from cover to cover - something I've tried and failed more than once.

I get something out of these readings every day. (Every day I remember to read them, that is.) Sometimes they make me think; sometimes they cause me to explore something within myself a little further. Yesterday's was particularly helpful in reminding me that everything will be just fine. Even in the midst of a job layoff, we are OK. And I knew this. I knew we would be provided for and for the first time ever I was not at all worried when Steve called to tell me he was coming home.

But there is that tiny little voice in the back of my head that wants me to worry. That voice keeps telling me how tough life could get if this lasts longer than expected. If that voice had its way I wouldn't enjoy this time with Steve at all because I would spend all my time fretting over what isn't happening and what we can't do.

As always, in perfect timing I was reminded of the truth. Monday's devotion was all about walking in faith and trusting that what God promises us will come to fruition. Life will be good. We will live in graciousness and abundance.

Psalm 128:2
You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be happy, and it shall go well with you.

Just what I needed to hear.

The Voice of Truth.

I haven't posted in a few days because I have been either too busy, too tired, too distracted, or because I simply have so much buzzing around in my head it's been too hard to choose one thing to write about. I have a lot to accomplish today and it's one of those mornings that I feel pulled in 100 different directions, but I am forcing myself to take a few minutes for me and do something I love. So here I am.

Do you ever feel like the voices are going to make you crazy? The voices of your children, your coworkers, your extended family, your doctor, your best friend, your pets even, but sometimes worst of all your own voice inside your head? They can all be overwhelming, and they can distract us from what is really important. I am certainly guilty of allowing that to happen.

So today I just want to share this with you ...

One of the lessons we read at church this past Sunday stuck with me more than usual. It's been floating around in the back of my head since then, one of those things where you think "this is gonna' come in handy at some point in the near future so I should remember it."

From Colossians, Chapter 1:   

 May you be strong with all the strength that comes from His glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

Well that about covers it, doesn't it? There have been many days recently that I have felt like a failure as a mother, but by God I have had many awesome moments with my children, too, and we have been able to eek out at least a little bit of goodness in each day. We have a long road ahead of us, but we will persevere. I am thankful for the kind of strength and patience only God can provide. 

So I've been kicking that Bible passage around for a few days, particularly this morning as I gritted my teeth trying not to yell at the kid who took a 20-minute shower and the kid who was goofing around still in pajamas while the clock tick-tocked away.

I was still running through the mental list of Things To Do when I came back from putting the kids on the school bus. The anxiety was creeping in. I walked into the front room to turn the computer on and the curtains were glowing pink. I opened them to be greeted with this:

Hear that? "Good morning, Jen. Don't worry. It's going to be a wonderful day. You are blessed."

Yeah, I didn't hear it, either.

I sat down at the computer, hit my bookmark for pandora.com and thought "I know. I can fix this. I'll play some Christmas music and I'll feel better in no time."

I had forgotten a) which of my favorite music stations I had left it on, and b) how loudly I left the speakers turned up last time.

This is the song that came blasting out at me:


I'm a little embarrassed to say how many times I've replayed this song this morning.

The voice of truth tells me a different story

The voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"

And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory"

Out of all the voices calling out to me

I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth

This is what one of my friends would call God's way of bonking me on the forehead in the style of a V8 moment. And like the child that I am, I sometimes need to hear something more than once for it to sink in.

Today I choose to listen to the only voice that matters. And I choose to believe what God's voice is telling me: I am OK. It will all work out. Our kids will do just fine in this world, maybe because of us, maybe in spite of us. I am loved. I am blessed. And you know what? It's not about ME anyway. It's about Him.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Must be magic.

That call or e-mail from the friend you haven't seen in ages.

That friend who knows you inside and out and who, when you see her again, will seamlessly continue that conversation the two of you started six months ago.

The message that says, "hey, I miss you. Everything is the same and everything is different. Wish we lived closer so we could have coffee today" without ever really saying any of those words.

The message that makes you laugh and feel like you've gotten a hug and that someone thinks you are special, all at the same time.

All wonderful.

But getting that call or that message at just the right time on a day when you really need it? That's some sort of magic.

I don't know how it works, but I'm so glad it does.

Clean Slate Sunday: 3.14.10 edition

I needed to go to church this morning. I needed to see my church family, pray with them, sing with them, worship with them. I didn't care if anyone else in the house got up and went with me, but my soul needed to be fed. I had been beating myself up a bit because I haven't made it to any of our church's special Lenten services, nor have we gone to Sunday morning service at all in the past month or so. I know my salvation is not dependent on how often I attend, but I had been feeling like a slug in that department lately and really needed to be lifted up.

So I went. By myself. It felt like I had been driving for days and finally made it home.

The Gospel lesson for the day? The parable of the prodigal son.

Heh.

The sermon? All about grace. The amazing grace offered up to each one of us by a loving God, and the somewhat ephemeral grace we humans offer one another.

The prodigal son and the grace with which his father accepted him upon his return. Now that's the kind of message I was needing today.

It was a busy week followed by an even busier weekend. I'm exhausted. Steve was home for the weekend - physically anyway - but spent much of that time frustrated over an issue at work. We did do a little bit of shopping with the kids Saturday and then Steve and I had a nice dinner out Saturday evening. Church this morning followed by social hour, then Girl Scout activities in the afternoon and a visit with some neighbors after that. I never thought I'd say this, but once again I'm looking forward to cleaning up and resting up from the weekend and getting back to the monotony of my Monday routine.

'Graceful' timing.

There are moments in life when we are fortunate enough to be a part of something wonderful, something awesome, maybe even life-changing. And then there are moments that start out relatively insignificant and turn into something grand. The God moments. The times when I think to myself that the only explanation for what just occurred is that He is trying to get my attention. I have changed my thinking in recent years to all but eliminate my belief in coincidences. No longer do I find myself saying "wow, that was great timing." Rather, I have picked up a phrase that my husband used recently; Steve said one day that what I thought was "great" timing was really "graceful" timing. Quite apropos.

Yesterday afternoon when the sun began peeking through the clouds and the ice started dripping off the eaves, I felt I would be remiss if I didn't take the opportunity to enjoy a beautiful afternoon outdoors. I wasn't really in the mood, but I grabbed my camera and headed out for a quick walk anyway, knowing the fresh air would do me some good.

This was my reward.

A bald eagle soared over my head. Now, I've seen eagles before, and I've even gotten relatively good pictures of them, considering my only camera is a $40 garage sale find that I couldn't take a clear picture with to save my life. But this eagle flew closer to me than any one before - close enough that at one point I got a little nervous that the fur around my hood looked a little too much like a small fox. There I stood, squinting up into the sun, tears streaming down my cheeks (from the biting wind, I swear), and trying to both enjoy the moment and capture it through my camera lens. The eagle circled above me about four times, each time moving a little farther from north to south. I stood, awestruck, and watched until it was out of sight. This is the best of the photos I got, but it can't possibly show you the beauty I saw in that moment. I was truly blessed.

Graceful timing? I like to think so.