project simplify: week 1 (late report)

Over the past several years I've lived in a pretty constant state of decluttering.  I have a box on a bench in the dining room that collects those items I periodically come across and decide to purge.  Every couple of months, or when we need to use the bench where the box(es) resides, I make a trip to our local Goodwill to pass on the "treasures" contained therein.

Yet, somehow, I still have entirely too much stuff, or, at least, what feels like a gross imbalance of stuff to space.  At times, I've felt the stuff:space ratio is acceptable, but the organization of said stuff does not lend itself to comfortable living.

Enter Project: Simplify.  I love that Tsh gives us an area each week to focus on, a deadline (so ADD-me doesn't fall too far off track), and a place to link up with others doing the same for recognition and moral support.

Last week the focus was on kids' stuff.  While I don't have kids, yet, I do have a stash of kids' stuff, but I'd just purged a load of "someday" kids' stuff last year keeping only neutral infant items.  However this challenge coincided nicely with the completion of our nursery.  (No, this isn't meant to be a covert announcement.  We're still working through adoption paperwork and prep.)  Last month I spent a weekend painting the room while the mattress and dresser clogged the hallway.  Then last weekend we carpeted and moved the furniture back in, along with the crib we received several years ago from a friend and my mother's rocking chair that's only slightly older than me (and identical to the one Lee's mother had).

The before pictures are pretty bad, since they're pre-paint and carpet, so I'll just show you the after. :)

Next week: Fridge/Pantry

right now

I shamelessly stole this idea from The Pleated Poppy:

Right now I am…

watching:  Warehouse 13 on Hulu.  I love Hulu.  It makes it possible for us to enjoy our favorite shows on our timetable...without the cost of a DVR.

eating: Dove Chocolates. mmmmm...

drinking:  apple cider.  Yeah, with chocolate.  I know.  I'm odd.  And I'm ok with that.

wearing: Jeans, a flowered black shirt, and black cardigan.  So comfy and snuggly.

avoiding:  The kitchen sink, as well as a couple Christmas projects I really should be working on...like addressing cards.

feeling: Surprisingly excited.  Tomorrow is my 35th birthday and this is the first year I'm tempted to claim "29 again".  I'll be starting my Saturday with a Santa event for co-workers' kids but ending it with a fun dinner out with an amazing group of girlfriends.  So, all in all should be a great day.  We'll just gloss over the one-year-older factor.  It's just a number, right??

missing: My friend from the October post. (Apparently, I post monthly, now.)  She really needs to move closer. ;o)

thankful:  For heat (it's really, really cold outside tonight) and the innumerable blessings in my life (despite my lack of gratitude)

weather:  According to our thermometer it's 30* outside right now.  Guess that's not really, really cold, but it's December, so, whatever.

praying: For a friend who really needs it this week.

needing: Motivation and more time to get ready for Christmas.

thinking: About The Hunger Games.  I saw the movie preview the other day and immediately thought, "I sooo want to read that now!"  I ordered it on my kindle and am thoroughly enjoying it.

loving: My new phone.  Lee upgraded and I inherited his smartphone...my first.  Today alone I've used it to text, check my email, listen to Pandora and read The Hunger Games at lunch. :)

kindred spirits

I watch her prepare lunch from across the kitchen island with books neatly stacked and groceries half-unhomed and proof that people, and love, live here.  Her husband is working on yet another project car in the driveway, much as mine would if this were my home rather than hers.  Her littles, with their shy, inquisitive eyes, try to size up this stranger in their midst whom their mother welcomed with an embrace as strong as a sister, though she has none.  As they warm to me, three-year-old Pigtails can't sit close enough, and five-year-old Little Man overflows with a train knowledge that strikes me dumb with words seemingly too large for his young mouth.

As we share our lives, I gush words more numerous than hers, as it's always been, and I am bewildered by how time seems to stand still with us.  I remember late-night confidences and bright afternoons sharing what the Lord has done.  I remember my wedding day, and hers, and how we each stood with the other.  How is it possible that the last summer afternoon I spent in her yard could be three years past and her newest little is cradled on my lap?  We've barely missed a beat.  Our conversation flows with the same rhythm it always has, never at a loss for words or topics or joy or comfort.

And I wonder.

Is this what it will be like in eternity?  One long comfortable conversation with those who are ever near at heart though separated by distance or time?  Oh, how I hope so.

5 minutes on "beyond"

5 Minute Friday in a Nutshell: The Gypsy Mama invites us to spend 5 unscripted, unedited minutes following her prompt.  This week?

BEYOND

GO
I want to get beyond.  Beyond the "fine."  Beyond the "ok."  Beyond the facade that I'm alright.  I want to be me and be honest and be open.  But how do I do that when I always feel like I'm saying too much, already?  Does the "how are you?" want a true response?  Do they want to hear about my struggles and triumphs?  About my workday or my messy sink?  Do they want to truly know how I am?  Or do they want "fine."

Am I the one not getting beyond?  I hide behind my masks because I so often feel that a struggling heart isn't submitted and a messy sink isn't "Christian".  I've been reading Grace for the Good Girl and chapter one just floored me.  I could have written it (if I had any writing skill or desire to speak of) it cut so close to my heart.

I want a box.  I want a list.  I want an easy set of rules to live by so I know I'm doing this Christian-walk-thing right.  But God doesn't give us that.  He gives us grace and love and peace and so much more.  So much beyond what we could imagine or ask or, sometimes for me, even believe.  But I should believe it, because He's the only one who truly does go beyond...and loves me in spite of all my failings and shortcomings.  He loves me for me and so much beyond what I could ever love.
STOP

Check out more "Beyond" posts here:

I'll be sharing more about Grace for the Good Girl.  So stay tuned.

P.S. Can I just say I'm an edit-addict??  I so badly want to go back and change this and tweak that...sigh...trying to be perfect.  When will I learn??

why do i hesitate?

I read her post and it touches me...stirs something within.  Or, perhaps, it is God using her words to speak peace to my heart, to teach me a lesson, to show me myself.  I click that [f share] button and pause, tapping my brain for words to share her words with others.  I hesitate.  What will they think of my thinking this is good?  Will they hear what I did when I read it?  Or will they shake their heads with a "there she goes again" look?  Why do I care?  I send it on for myself...the sharing helps me own the message...and for them...because maybe, just maybe, He wants to tell them something, too.

empty thanks

We played a couple rounds of "thankful for" at lunch today.  This is where you go around the table and name something you're thankful for.  My day job is an HR associate, so this was my boss's way of making this a "working lunch."  As the 5 of us went around the table sharing things we're thankful for (life, home, family, friends, job, etc) I couldn't help but feel it was all a bit hollow.  It's all well and good to be thankful for things.  It brightens our outlook on life and helps us focus on the positive...after all, no one likes a Negative Nelly.  But, to whom are we thankful?  If that thanks is not directed at the Giver, it truly is hollow.  What good does it do to tell my friend that I'm thankful for the birthday gift my parents gave me, especially if I neglect or refuse to thank them directly?  In the same way, we should direct our thanks to the Giver of all good things, otherwise, what's the point?

James 1:16-17 esv
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

What gifts are you thankful to our Father for today?

oh, the waiting!

I feel like my life is all caught up in waiting. It's been such a big theme over the past 11 years. But I don't want to wish my life away, either. I've been working on my personal statement of faith to include in our adoption application, and it occurred to me that I've been a bit obsessed with waiting. I'm sure my friends ears are weary of being chewed off by my babbling, so I'm throwing it to the nether-regions of the internet so you may listen or ignore at your own inclination.

I linked to this poem a couple weeks(?) ago on Generation Cedar, but I want to include it in its entirety here, as a reminder to myself.

Wait

by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

This poem just rings with me, as it was my ongoing state for years while we waited to conceive.  For so long I cried to the Lord, begged Him to answer my prayers.  But, now, I agree with Him.  Waiting on the Lord has taught me so much more than getting what I wanted would have.  I still have my impatient, petulant moments when I almost demand what I long for, but more and more I'm learning to be patient for His perfect plan to be worked out in my life.

But that still doesn't mean it's easy...