I don't really know what happened. I blinked and October is gone! I will say this is probably THE MOST enjoyable October I've had since I was a kid. Kyle and I have not had one weekend that is boring or stay-at-home. We have flung ourselves into the gorgeous fall and enjoyed it thoroughly. There have been fall parties, helping friends make costumes, events for later on this year being planned, and lots of traveling. Went to Ohio and reconnected with some family members and thoroughly enjoyed that. I will randomly think, "oh... I should blog about this!" or "Gee its been a while since I blogged!" and then get back to whatever I'm doing and forget about it. SO just wanted to remind you, dear cyberspace, that I am alive and well. Just having too much fun to record it for the blogosphere to see and enjoy. We've also been enjoying everyone else's kids A LOT this October. That may or may not have influenced the sudden resurgence of questions and hints of, 'So when y'all having you some kids?!' It doesn't bother me like it used to, partly because while I'd PREFER to have my husband to myself for a while longer, I feel like we've established ourselves as a healthy couple and COULD handle the added challenge of raising a child should we be blessed with that opportunity. But also because I think I've made a lot more peace within myself about my own issues with my mom. I've found areas that I really do want to be like her and so that makes the parts of her that I see in myself more easy to try and discipline myself out of. So all in all its been a pretty good October. November is looking just as busy; we already don't have one open weekend and the weekdays are getting pretty busy too. I guess thats what we get for being such interesting people! |
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Its weird how quickly the seasons change here. Just a few weeks ago - the last time I blogged (ack!) - summer was still holding on by its fingertips. Breezes were still warm, jackets were not entirely needed, and hot beverages were not a necessity. Its either been so hectic I can't see straight, or so mundane and uneventful I feel like the most boring person in the world. I haven't intended to neglect you, my poor blog. I just either haven't had anything I particularly wished to share with cyberspace - OR I've been busy with random events or traveling here and there. This last Friday I went to the local Christian Crisis Pregnancy Center's annual fundraising banquet, and afterwards my adopted brother and I road tripped to my in-laws where we met up with my husband. The next morning we got up, had breakfast with the in-laws, and then the three of us 'youngsters' headed to Natural Bridge State Park, where the leaves were just turning color. To say it was absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking would be an understatement. The drizzle and occasional bursts of rain only added to the delightful ethereal atmosphere. Outcropping of rocks or tiny caves along the path offered us shelter from the rain and the steep hike kept our blood moving so we were warm. (well... mostly warm. I bundled a little more than the guys did...) All three of us visibly let go of tension and stress that we'd acquired through our various jobs over the weeks. After a few attempts at focusing on negative events we all reminded each other that this was a HAPPY trip and we weren't going to waste it griping. So after we got over that hurdle, we all began noticing wrinkles smoothing out around our eyes and shoulders relaxing and laughter coming far more easily than it had in a while. We felt like teenagers again bounding up hills to investigate caves or hoping over enormous puddles or taking goofy pictures. Kyle and Chris kept turning rock formations into forts or weapons or vehicles and by the end of the hike the entire state park had become their personal commune. After getting soaked with the rain and sweat, stomping mud accidentally on ourselves (and a little intentionally on each other), we returned home for some homemade tomato soup, bratwursts, tea and a comedy movie before we went to bed. I wish spending a day hiking through a national park with friends was a career, because if it were I'd quickly run up the ranks to CEO of the entire business in about a month! Fall was not something I grew up with, so when people say "my favorite season is Fall" I was always mystified. Fall on the Plains means that its hot one day, the wind blows exceptionally hard for a day or two and it may rain or have some other storm, all the leaves turn brown and fall down and then its winter. So the gentle transition from green to an onslaught of reds and yellows amongst the trees to make a patchwork quilt of color across the countryside is something I'm still adjusting to. Its an amazing adjustment, I just still always forget to say my favorite season is fall. But after a glorious day out IN it, I'm beginning to think that may be the case. If not season, then my favorite COLOR is definitely fall! Slowly we are moving away from regular ceramic mugs and replacing them with unique pottery that scream individuality and send any doubts I may have about whether or not I'm a boring person scampering to a far corner. Most of our pieces have a story, are from a trip, or have some funny memory attached to them.
This week both Kyle and I have been fighting getting sick thanks to huge allergy attacks, are still emotionally and physically recovering from the weekend, and have been dealing with bouts of various self-doubt and stress. So its been a week where we are being VERY proactive to find joy in the little things and be especially vocally thankful as much as we can. And today I'm thankful for all our pretty mugs! This is the third time i've written this blog post, because the blog server keeps deleting what I've written each time I add pictures! I guess it might be the Holy Spirit giving me plenty of opportunities to rewrite what I've written and reevaluate what I've said, so here goes. Third time the charm, right? This last weekend was very intense. Friday I drove down to the inlaws where my husband was staying so that his commute isn't so long during Firefighter training. Saturday we both made ourselves beautiful and drove to Toledo for my cousin's wedding. Sunday we had breakfast with the Grandparents and then after bumming around Toledo and getting a few patches and visiting Corporal Klinger's beloved Tony Packo's, we drove to Dayton. There we had lunch with assorted family members and then drove back to the in-laws so that my husband wouldn't have to get up at 4:30 in the morning to drive back to training and arrive on time at 7am. I got up and drove back home to shop for the rich lady and get some of our own grocery shopping done, then had dinner with one of my best friends. Then I FINALLY got home. Whew! So today I have: done two loads of laundry, read some of the Orchid Books my Grandpa gave me, repotted some of my orchids after learning new things about their needs, and passed several levels of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. See along with all of the traveling - which would have been intense enough, there was basically every emotion imaginable experienced in the last four days. So the reason why I have taken such joy at exploding jewels on cyberspace is because I've been doing a lot of processing. I had several really amazing conversations this weekend which really needed to happen. And there were some conversations that didn't take place that I really wish would happen and to be honest that kind of hurts. BUT as I have said before this blog is not a place for me to vent my sob-story so instead of writing any further about that I shall focus on what the title of this post says: Flowers! I have been exposed to several AMAZING flowers and flower arrangements this weekend and I am going to share them with you. So enjoy! AAAANd now for you to see my absolute favorite parts of the wedding:
I got up at 4:30 AM yesterday with my husband to help him get ready for work. Usually I go back to bed afterwards and wake up around 9 feeling mildly hungover, so yesterday I decided to try something new and just stay up. This put my body into a subconscious flashback of when I was traveling overseas apparently, and the rest of the day I found myself doing the things I used to do to survive Jetlag. Several friends encouraged me to be sensible and take a nap. I tried. I really did. But see my body has resented naps since I was about 2 years old, and its actually more work to discipline myself to sleep during the day then it is to just not sleep and go to bed when I usually do. So I've been pendulum swinging between babying myself and completely beating myself up for not being more productive, proactive, and prudent. To try and winkle a Happy Medium into my subconscious, I've been watching BBC's "State of Play" with James McAvoy (and lots of other cool british actors and actresses that we don't really hear about this side of the Big Pond.) and listening to Piano Guy's newest compilation of Batman theme songs. I love watching British television because they seem like they ought to be just like us; them speaking English and all that. But there's still lots of cultural differences. Different slang, teatime, the fact that they still pass notes on actual paper to each other instead of just texting... But it makes me miss Europe. A lot. And by the time this week is done I'll have attended a funeral AND a wedding, both of which are emotionally exhausting even if you aren't super close with anyone connected to either event - which in this case I am. Plus I've been experiencing a HUGE bout of apathy towards my ministry job. So the fatigue hasn't helped. All that to say... have fun watching the youtubes and there's the la Funerals are always intense events. A firefighter's funeral is no less. This firefighter was an EMT for twelve years before he joined the fire department, taught volunteer high school classes, was friends with police officers, state troopers, biker gangs, and was also part of a masonic lodge. So there was about 500 people at this event. There was a message by the fire cheifs of both departments the fallen served at - as he was a full-time and volunteer firefighter. The Mason's did a funeral ritual, and the firefighters saluted their comrade. The Methodist pastor of the church he attended gave a sermon, and his nephew spoke. You could sense the deep Faith the fire chiefs and the pastor had in Christ and the hope they had that they would see their friend again in Heaven. But as I looked around the EMT's, Firefighters, Police Officers, State Troopers, Air Evac staff, high schoolers, family and friends, I wondered how many of them understood the Hope of Salvation. They heard the Gospel preached and were encouraged to seek the Lord if they hadn't already invited Him into their hearts in a very loving, gentle, godly way. 500 people showed up to pay homage to a man who was a 'normal joe,' just a good old Kentucky boy. And when he was hospitalized due to a freak accident, the whole community responded not only to the family but to the fire department. I hope when its my time to go I've made such a strong impact on a community, and have opened the door for at least that many people to hear the Gospel!
So began a beautiful relationship. As a homeschooler, friendships with peers were always a challenge and didn't happen on a consistent basis; so my friends were usually characters in books. And Laura was the best of companions. She was adventuresome and spunky; she knew how to take care of herself and others; she knew how to be ladylike but also be independent and interesting. In a word she was one of my heroes. And her descriptions of life matched what I read in the museums we often visited - and most importantly to my childhood mind, she really WAS pretty in her photographs. (Unlike John Smith and Pocahontas, who looked nothing like Disney's description and whose painted images in the museum had a rather traumatic effect on my young mind) But of course it didn't stop with just one book, because as you probably know, there is a whole series of Little House books. While I was growing up, I didn't think anything of it. They were just books and books as we all know are essential to life, but apart from my vivid imaginary world I didn't really think much more than that. After I graduated from college, the written word and I were NOT friends. Finishing even magazine articles was a challenge. I'm not sure why but I just didn't want to even read the most basic things. I was burnt out. And its been a discipline to get back into reading and writing. But I come from a long line of opinionated people who think that such opinions ought to be shared, and I've found if you write it down people are far more accepting of your opinions than if you say it to their face. So I figured I ought to get back into writing, and most authors will tell you their secret to being good authors is reading other authors' work. So back into reading I went. I made a list of books I wanted to get and slowly started acquiring them. And the Little House books were on that list. (I tell you its the most eclectic book list ever; authors include Corrie Ten Boom, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Eoin Colfer, Stephen Lawhead, Elizabeth George Spear, Francine Rivers, Philppa Gregory, C.S. Lewis... and thats just a sampling!) For Christmas my in-laws gave me a gift certificate to an Amish store out in the sticks near where they live. (Ottenheim General Store. Does that not sound deliciously unmodern?) If you've never been to an Amish General store, you really must find one and visit it. They are very quiet people but so friendly. I could write a whole book on the very few and sparse interactions I've had with them but suffice it to say that the idealized depictions portrayed in books that are somewhat in vogue in Christian bookstores are shall we say not as educational as you might think. But I do love visiting them. At this particular general store there is a book section, and its mostly a used book section. To my delight I found a few books by Corrie Ten Boom and C. S. Lewis and low and behold there was a whole Laura Ingalls Wilder section! It took a great deal of willpower to not march home with all of them but budgets being what they are I only purchased one - and a devotional by Corrie Ten Boom. Well, life being what it is, I'm afraid Mrs. Wilder's beloved book sat and gathered dust on the shelf for a while after that. Summer happened. And quite frankly I forgot how much I loved those books. And honestly I usually forget how much I love reading. I'm a little hyperactive, and its a discipline for me to sit still. Plus for four years in college I had to stifle my creative juices and only allowed them occasional releases during breaks and rare outbursts of 'hang the homework, I'm painting something!' So now that I am free of the academic world, I'm still coaxing my brain to realize that if I sit down and read a book, I will not have to swear off any of the artsy past times i love for years at a time again. But this week I had a minor revelation. I have found that reading a little before bed is incredibly helpful to calm myself down and chase away fears. My husband has been out of town this week for several Firefighter trainings, and it just worked out to be easier on him if he stayed at the fire department all week instead of commuting back and forth. While absence certainly makes the heart grow fonder, when he's not home I experience an onslaught of irrational childhood fears after dark. I think what prompted me to pick the book up was the cold snap we've had this week. The house started creaking and the breeze was whispering in the eaves and I jumped about a mile high, and then scolded myself. The gentle Kentucky breeze is N.O.T.H.I.N.G. compared to the fell voice of the wind on the High Plains. And hen I started to spook myself, thinking of the winter wind howling around the farmhouse in South Dakota. It really does have a voice. Its unlike wind anywhere else. You can very easily imagine a mean face blowing that awful sound out through frozen lips, with icy fingers clawing at the windows, trying to get in or tear the house down around you. And then I realized I was really scaring myself with a ridiculous picture that would make Hans Christian Anderson proud. One way to combat childhood fears is with a good bedtime story, so I went to the bookshelf and picked up the Little House book. I brewed myself a delightful bedtime cup of tea, and barricaded myself in bed with fuzzy blankets and pillows. All irrational fears of wind monsters fled as I was transported back to the world where little girls must be seen and not heard, 'blast' was cussing, sunbonnets were worn because tans were not popular, cornmeal and stewed rabbit was the menu of the day and brindle bulldogs were a girls best friend. "Oh Charles!" was the harshest thing Ma ever said to Pa, and she was the epitome of all things ladylike and civilized. Pa was the ultimate resource of protection and ingenuity and kindness, and he apologized when he said 'blamed' in front of women and children. I remembered how I used to love Laura's descriptions of pretty tablecloths and colorful quilts, of the china shepherdess that was so dainty and whose presence declared the current residence officially a home. And I realized that these books really helped shape me into the person I am. Pretty tablecloths and china bespeckle my home and my friends lovingly joke that I have a 'grandma's house,' or a 'cottage.' Books really put in place a love of hospitality, of nourishing soups and pursuit of a more simple life. Laura rarely talks about her faith in the books, but the few times she does its clear there was a cultural theology that ruled their home. Pa and Ma were educated and loved learning but they also loved welcoming the Tennessee Wildcat of Mr. Edwards into their hearts and home. They were pioneers and lived on homesteads but they also had friends and neighbors and they all helped each other survive in a harsh climate with a very quaint and loving community. I really don't need to pontificate further about the lovely Ingalls home because there are plenty of books and movies that do so already. The main point of this is realizing how much we don't realize what adults do when they place a book in the hands of a child. As I re-read these books and observe the loving descriptions of Laura's parents and the beautiful, quiet, respectful passion those two had in their marriage, I realize that subconsciously that's what Kyle and I strive for in our marriage.Ma loved community. In the later books its clear how much the Pioneer days were Pa's idea - she was a school teacher and she loved society. But she respected and loved and trusted him enough to follow him to literally the ends of the earth (have you been to the high plains? They will convince you the world is flat and you will eventually fall off the edge!) But by the same token, when she finally said, 'enough,' he stopped moving and became one of the town fathers of De Smet. That kind of loving submission to each other is so beautiful and more importantly its biblical. So in conclusion, if you haven't read the Little House books you must. From their pencil drawings to the description of Pa's Fiddle singing to the stars, they are edification of one's life in the finest sense.
And no, it doesn't count if you watch the movies. Don't even get me started on the 'Book vs. Movie' debate. Books are better. Always. And Little Joe from Bonanza plays Pa. While Michael Landon's acting improves drastically from Bonanza to Little House, and the original movie that sparked the television series does good justice to the book, ITS NOT THE SAME. And the series that follows the movie is cute but the only thing it and the book series has in common is pioneers and the character names. You may watch the movies AFTER reading the books, because as dorky as they are they are a precious testimony to the 70's and 80's attempting to be historically accurate. My husband recently was hired as a full time Firefighter, and is continuing to work as a part-time firefighter in a different city. We're already realizing that, while its SOOOO much better than when he was a Police Officer, there's still sacrifices we're having to make. He's currently gone two nights every week and four days for training, and when he comes home he's happy but exhausted... too exhausted to go have many adventures with me. We know that part is just for a season and eventually he'll be on the 24-on, 48-off firefighter shift. But my small sacrifice, especially today on September 11th, makes me think of and pray for the men and women who gave the ultimate sacrifice of their lives, and of those they left behind. There's a reason why these types of jobs have such a high divorce rate. Its hard on those left behind, on those who can't go on the adventure - or suffer through the daily grind - to watch the one they love the most complete the challenges set before him with the attitude of 'all in a day's work.' I'm incredibly blessed in the fact that my firefighter listens to and calms my fears, answers any questions I have, and never keeps secrets from me - and that's the rule we've had since he was a Police officer. If you know a man, woman or couple who are in either of these fields, before you start criticizing their work field or decisions, get to know them and their challenges. Offer support and encouragement. They need it. They know they make mistakes. They know they are ostracized by media and the culture. What they don't know is who to trust, how to ask for help, how to beg for forgiveness, where to find friendship outside of the brotherhood their occupation sometimes provides. Its so easy for us to nitpick. Why is it so hard to offer encouragement? September 11th, the honor and sacrifice that day contained, the heroism that was displayed by so many will never be forgotten. But all of those men and women were ordinary people that had, up to that point, been almost invisible in today's culture - especially when it came to the media. And now on the news, whenever you hear of police officers or firefighters, its generally to criticize their decisions or paint them in horrible hues. But they have that same heroism that we all appreciate when its our lives on the line. Don't wait until the next crisis hits to show your appreciation. Be a hero to our silent hero's and give support and encouragement today. Have the courage to end the mean conversation towards them. Learn about their job, ask questions and maybe some of the things they do will make more sense. September 11th will always be a day in history. But if we learn from it and let it teach us the value of our fellow citizens, it can be so much more.
I knew we didn't have enough time to eat all of the tomato soup ourselves; especially because when I learned how to cook it was while overseas with several hungry fellow missionaries or while I was living as part of a family of 7 on an acreage in South Dakota. I.e. I never cook in small batches. I always cook enough for an army, and whatever isn't consumed at that meal is frozen or refrigerated or given away to hungry friends (usually more of the last one than anything). But we were gonna leave in a day or too, and I didn't think there was enough time to peddle off my soup before it spoiled. I figured we could take some with us to Chicago and eat it there and feed my Great-Grandma with it; but I had no idea if she would like it, and that still wouldn't make a dent in the stock-pot quantity I was cooking. So I started praying. Seems silly now - praying my tomato soup would be used! But I prayed anyway. It was that kind of day where I had too much to do and not enough time to do it in, and I really just didn't feel like having my hard work wasted. So I prayed that my soup would be used to bless someone - anyone! - and that it would all get eaten. And then mentally smacked myself for being so silly and petulant about my soup. Well, within 15 minutes my husband called. He was helping our friends move, and let me tell you it was under very weird circumstances and much stress was experienced by all through that whole adventure. But he called and let me know that he was very aggravated with our friends' friends, because it felt to him as though they had only shown up to help move long enough to have earned their free piece of pizza and then left. No one had stayed for more than a couple of hours, and there was a full days work there. So he asked if it was ok if he stayed for the rest of the day to help, and if I could meet him there later so we could all get some decent food. "I have a huge pot of tomato soup... want me to bring that for dinner?" I also stopped by the Bosnian bakery and bought some fresh bread (fresh bosnian bread ought to be a candle scent !!!) and the Russian store and bought chocolates, cookies, and Kvas (a Russian malt-soda-drink) as my friend was Ukrainian, and she has ministered to me for years through wise words heard over the crunching of chocolate. When I got to their little apartment I made grilled cheese with the bread and then we all went out onto their balcony and enjoyed the breeze while we ate. Their little one year old hadn't had much of an appetite that week, what with all of the stress of moving. But that day he wanted his OWN BOWL of soup and ate most of it all by himself! They thanked us that day, their mother/-in-law thanked us several times. They sent us a thank you card, they thanked us on the phone, they thanked us on a blog post, they thanked us on a facebook status!! Now my point isn't to brag on myself (altho if you walk away thinking I'm amazing I'm okay with that too ;-D) but simply to say that God used my petulant desires to bless others. I don't know how righteous or holy my prayer was when I sent an exasperated plea up to heaven among the steam of cooking onions and tomatoes, but still God used it. My Korean room mate used to always chastise me with, "Rach-o-ya, you must PRAY more! God wants you to PRAY!" At that point in life I wanted to cry that I barely had enough time to eat and sleep, let alone pray! So you know what I would do, I would pray that God would help me pray! That He would help me make time to pray. I've had lots of conversations in the last week or two with other women and girls who are struggling in various areas. And somewhere in the mix of words is, 'Well I just don't have time for church.' 'Well, I know my spiritual life is suffering too so that's not helping anything...' 'I know I need more godly friends but I just can't find any, ' or 'Christian people don't like me.' And I want to encourage you that God misses you. He sees through your excuses. He knows your schedule and your fears and your exhaustion, and He still misses you. Now I'm not one of those who thinks you ought to be in a church every time the doors are open - far from it. But I do think there is something essential when the Apostle Paul writes in Hebrews, "And let us be concerned about one another in order to promote love and good works, not staying away from our worship meetings, as some habitually do, but encouraging each other,and all the more as you see the day drawing near." (Hebrews 10:24-26) We need prayer in our lives, we need other Believers - good wholesome people who love God and love us so that we can more joyfully serve God together. I've been burnt by the Church - belieeeeeeve you me! You have no idea how nasty some christian people have been towards me. And I have no idea how nasty some Christian people have been towards you. But don't punish God for someone else's mistake. And don't rob other believers of the joy of getting to know you because of another's sin. He cares about us. He cares enough to take a snarky prayer of mine and turn it into a blessing for me and three other families!! God has blessed me with the ability to cook, which I always forget is a huge blessing to people - until I get the coupons in the mail and see that they are ONLY for packaged meals not ingredients, or walk into a grocery store and realize that most everything is pre-assembled and full of preservatives. Not that there is anything wrong about cooking or eating that way! There isn't. And I've certainly done my fair share of assembling and heating up from packages! But to taste a dish made of all real ingredients - that is a lovely experience. And its something very simple and actually usually quite inexpensive. But it requires TIME. Right now God has blessed me with the time and energy to do such things. What simple thing has He blessed you with? What simple thing can you give Him today that could change someone else's day? Pray dear friend. Pray for God to show you today that He is Real, that He loves you, that He misses you. That He wants to use YOU not only to bless others but to bless YOU when you realize that He's used you! I have always collected seashells. I don't know why, there is just something fairy-like and magical about finding a beautiful shell just washed up by the surf, all sparkling and shiny from the saltwater. My passion for such things led to me accidentally bringing home a live sea snail once, which Grandma found in the laundry basket... learning moment all around!!! My husband had only been to the sea side once or twice before he met me, so the need to bring home pockets full of sandy, smelly shells was one which I had to educate him on. He did grow to the point where he would help me find them and feel elated himself when he would find a whole shell not broken to bits washed up onto the shore. It got to the point where we had a whole shoe box full of shells, which Kyle fit into the car under the condition that I DO SOMETHING CREATIVE with them once we got home. Along with the nice little window display you see above that is in my sea-themed bathroom, (made up entirely of shells we found ourselves. Not one of those over-priced 'made in china' souvenirs!) here is what I have come up with: Its not finished of course. I'm thinking I will do some kind of mixed media on the wreath; perhaps a cross-stitched mermaid, a knitted fish or two, and little collages of shells - or flowers with shells in the middle...
The burlap is made up from centerpieces from our wedding. I like the tie-in: the burlap from our wedding, the shells from our 1 year anniversary :-) I guess I can afford to be fancy with this because its definitely a summer-themed wreath, and summer feels like its about over. So it will give me something to look forward to all winter once the Christmas present projects are done and I don't feel like working on my Nativity cross-stitch. In other news, today is my sister's birthday! If you are reading this today, dear sister, I hope your day is work and stress free, full of friends and laughter and happiness!! Happy Birthday!! |
AuthorA normal woman learning to serve an Extraordinary Lord in Ordinary ways, and watching Him turn it into Amazing Grace! © 2014-2015 Rachel Hester. All rights reserved. Archives
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