Coming in and out of blogging is so unlike me. Writing was an integral and regular part of my life for six years and it has all but dissipated...but, I'm feeling twinges, little nudges, in my heart and soul and mind to come back to writing again. To come talk to you and share snapshots of my life and where I'm at right now. Even if I don't have the money for moccasins for Truman or outfits for What I Wore Wednesday or time for crafts. I love seeing all of the beauty and inspiration and ideas. But for now, what I have to offer is words. Stories.
I've had a few commenters concerned about my health and exactly what I've been going through. Aside from having a ridiculous obsession with cookie dough, my health is just fine. Our sweet babies are thriving and wowing me every day. I have to pinch myself repeatedly to remind myself that yes I am their mother, and yes--they have been given to me, straight from heaven. Truman is almost one, Sissy almost four. Wilder is kicking butt at preschool; can't believe how tall he's getting.
The weather is finally warming here. At 1am I remembered to take the trash to the curb. Slugglishly, reluctantly, I rose from dozing on the couch to don my robe and find some shoes, any shoes, to start the simple task of taking the trash out. Upon entering the back yard, the wafts of cool air chilled my bare legs and I felt an instant wave of energy. Boy I could go for a run, I thought. Then, thank you Lord for bringing spring.
The walk to the curb isn't far, but it was long enough for me to hear the sounds of a slumbering block, of a sleeping city. And I pictured couples and children and singles and pets and grandmas and pop pops all snug in their beds, the covers tucked beneath their chins, perhaps an arm dangling over the side of the bed, and snorts and heavy breaths escaping sinuses. The sound of people at peace and homes all settled in, simply moved me. The cherry on top was the faint sound of wind chimes (one of my favorite things!) in the distance. I peered up at the moon, half crescented, the man in it keeping an eye out for little ole me, vulnerable in my pink robe.
(hoop art by my sister Megan)
Having returned inside I sipped some water then decided it was time to let words out. I may have been the only person awake on the block and I wanted to stay awake and do something secret, like write a little.
I'm not ready to talk about my recent journey, and I may never be (which I trust you will respect), but please, know this, I trust God!
I was recently inspired by a message I heard on the radio. It was something to the effect of: no wrongs that you have done have ruined God's plan for your life. No wrongs people have done against you have ruined God's plan for your life either!!!
None of us are a lost cause. Not ever. Not even the trash. I got it out in time!