This is going to be a very long post, but these two dream experiences may yet make you a believer, if you are not already there.
You’re Not All That. (Thank God)
Back when we first started dating, it didn’t take Steve long to figure out he was falling in love with a perfectionist…with someone who, more correctly, was obsessed with trying to 
be Someone Who Follows All The Rules, who often failed to do so, and who would then spend 99% of her time beating herself up about it. At one point in those early days, he turned to me and said, “You can’t be Jesus, Emily. That job is taken!”
Just last year, he gave me this birthday card. Appears I haven’t gotten that whole “you’re-not-Jesus” message yet, because I honestly got kind of giddy over what was on the front, before I opened it.
When the Bottom is Bouncy
Last week was a hard week. Even knowing – logically – that not every week or day will be hard doesn’t make it that easy to get through the dark places. I do thank God we have stuff we have to do. Reasons to get up and get out.
On Being That Strange Mom
A Random Thing to Share….
Last December, Sarah introduced me (Steve joined in later) to the “Stranger Things” series on Netflix. I don’t watch a lot of current television; I do enjoy having an old movie on (one I know, that I don’t have to pay close attention to) while I cook, and Steve and I will watch a movie with or after dinner at times, but that’s it. I had heard this show was really good, however (even from Mark’s film-expert-snobby-friends), so I was happy to spend time with Sarah – home from college for winter break – snuggled on the couch, as we binged our way through Season One.
Anyone Got a Flashlight?
I’ve got what I am fairly sure is a mucousy-preschooler-provided cold and a bad case of 
depression; I am skipping church because I know I would be useless with the kids in Sunday school, and during worship I would just sit there and cry, and comfort and teaching would just slip off instead of sinking in. Deep sadness creates a Teflon-coated bubble that nothing and nobody seems to be able to pop but me, and that’s a choice I cannot seem to make today. I need outside help….which God generally sends in the form of people, and I am avoiding them.
Great.
Not My Will, but Thine…?
So, prior to November 23rd, The Plan (filed under “Avoiding Holidays at Home Part 2”) had been to celebrate Thanksgiving at my brother’s house (which Sarah and I ultimately did while Steve stayed with his mom in the hospital), and then to go to Minnesota – where Steve’s brother lives – for Christmas, taking my MIL along for what was being billed as “probably her last trip.”
After her fall/broken hip, we were still thinking we could go to MN, just without her. We had non-refundable tickets. And she was being well-cared for, right? We needed to GO, right?
Mind Control, Forests and Trees
We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive… 2 Corinthians 10:5
And so I fight the currents
I fight the undertow
Help me swim away from
Where my weakness grows
And lay me down (lay me down)
At your feet
And sing the words (say the words)
That you know I need
I’m here, I want to hear your heartbeat
Please put your love around me
And just let me know
That you’re here, now I’m an arms reach from you
From the lover of my soul
You’re the lover of my soul
from “Heartbeat” by Bleach
The Coins Continue
I would imagine, for some readers, that the fact I find (or am shown, or given) coins almost every day might make you uncomfortable. I am RIGHT there with you, on some levels: it blows my mind, every single time. But it also delights me beyond measure, and I simply say thank you with all of my heart. Here are a few recent stories.
In mid-October, not long after I started working at the preschool, I was struggling. The one year anniversary had just passed. As I walked into the classroom that morning, feeling pretty weepy and trying so hard to pull it together so that I could be useful and interactive, there was a play dime, a plastic dime right in the middle of the otherwise clean carpet. We really have no other play money around.
Scumbags and Heartbreak: A PSA
As September turned to October in 2016, and the one year anniversary of Mark’s death came and went, leaving us emotionally shipwrecked once again, we found that our involvement in my MIL’s life was turning into a nearly daily adventure. Her Alzheimer’s was slowly worsening, leaving her unable to keep track of time. She refused to change clothes, wasn’t showering. She was driving less and less as time went by (only once between mid-September and mid-October)…but we were still terrified, and began to plan how to remove the car (again). And to anticipate how terribly difficult that would be (again).
Gifts and Clarity
A list of things I feel have been given to me over the past few months – really in the form of “sudden knowledge” from out of the blue, usually just as I was rising to consciousness in the morning – or stuff I’ve figured out as the trauma has slowly worn off.
(1) That Mark was not afraid or in great pain, in those few hours after the accident and before he died during surgery. I’ve thought a lot about what the nurses – both in the ER and the trauma center – told us about Mark: that he never asked for pain meds (but was given some because THEY thought he needed them, given his multiple fractures and injuries); that he was “alert” and “talking” and everyone mentioned his great personality and how kind he was; that he asked, with humor but also rhetorically, whether he would be able to attend the VT football game the next day (and answered Continue reading
BLUE SKIES REMIND ME 