Preface: I wrote this post a few days ago while having a down moment and debated if I should post it. I'm not looking for sympathy or trying to bash anyone who loves living in Searcy. It is just like I said "from the heart".
If you know me well, you know I'm slow to warm..always have been. Well, I'm still on the cold side of warming to Searcy. I won't even get a new driver's license or car tags because then it really means I am here to stay. I am in a state of resistance.
I knew that moving away from Knoxville was going to be difficult. I knew that leaving deep solid loving friends was going to break my heart. I knew that I would miss seeing the mountains as I drove down Ebenezer Road on the way to our house. I knew that Target would not be a daily excursion anymore. I knew that Laura would miss her friends. I knew that looking for a new church would be overwhelming and that I'd tear up sometimes during church on Sunday missing our former church home. I knew that loneliness would be a part of my life for awhile.
So you can picture how I might be feeling lately or how lucky my sweet husband must feel to be living with me.
I have lost sight that God has a plan for my family....a plan much bigger than I can fathom or understand. So as I experience a vast array of emotions as one does when they experience a move, I am focusing on the following scripture:
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Lasts
I'm feeling the weight of the move on me this afternoon. This next week is my last full week in Knoxville. I am looking at my calendar and realizing there are a lot of "lasts" heading our way. Laura's last ballet class, her last sleepover with her good school buddy Haley, the last time we'll go to Dollywood with the Watson's, the last time I eat lunch with Sara and Allison with our babies who are 5 weeks apart, the last time Laura and Mackenzie will run the church halls together, and the list continues. My house isn't "homey" anymore with all the decor and wall hangings down. My heart is heavy.
On a much much happier note, Laura has her first ballet recital tomorrow morning. We went to her dress rehearsal this afternoon and she was adorable. She did great in her performance and of course had lots of personality in her dance moves! Here is a small photo sampling. There will be more to come after the show!
On a much much happier note, Laura has her first ballet recital tomorrow morning. We went to her dress rehearsal this afternoon and she was adorable. She did great in her performance and of course had lots of personality in her dance moves! Here is a small photo sampling. There will be more to come after the show!
Friday, March 28, 2008
Eleven Things Learned in Eleven Days
1. Laura likes to use my nursing pads to make pretend sandwiches. She has also been nursing her favorite doll, Stella. That didn't take long!
2. There is in increase in laundry.
3. I will do whatever it takes for Grant to sleep at night even if it means sleeping on me! Although he is doing better to sleep in his bed the last couple of nights!!!
4. It is okay to use formula and not beat yourself up over using a bottle.
5. I enjoy the days when Laura is at school and I have time just with Grant without any distractions.
6. Grant loves his swing.
7. Jim is a great daddy. Of course I already knew that, but he has been a wonderful source of encouragement to me the last week and a great playmate to Laura when I am unable to entertain.
8. Laura has watched probably too much t.v. lately.
9. I didn't wait two weeks to start driving post c-section. If you know me, I like to get out when I can, so I resumed driving a little early.
10. Selling a house, an approaching move, having a husband finish a dissertation, and adding a newborn to the mix at the same time is an overwhelming thought at times.
11. I love my family of four. While at times, I long for a full-nights sleep and getting past the newborn demands, I love Jim, Laura and Grant more than anything.
2. There is in increase in laundry.
3. I will do whatever it takes for Grant to sleep at night even if it means sleeping on me! Although he is doing better to sleep in his bed the last couple of nights!!!
4. It is okay to use formula and not beat yourself up over using a bottle.
5. I enjoy the days when Laura is at school and I have time just with Grant without any distractions.
6. Grant loves his swing.
7. Jim is a great daddy. Of course I already knew that, but he has been a wonderful source of encouragement to me the last week and a great playmate to Laura when I am unable to entertain.
8. Laura has watched probably too much t.v. lately.
9. I didn't wait two weeks to start driving post c-section. If you know me, I like to get out when I can, so I resumed driving a little early.
10. Selling a house, an approaching move, having a husband finish a dissertation, and adding a newborn to the mix at the same time is an overwhelming thought at times.
11. I love my family of four. While at times, I long for a full-nights sleep and getting past the newborn demands, I love Jim, Laura and Grant more than anything.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Observations on Being the Wife of a Dissertating Husband
- The laptop is always on and Jim's fingers are always tapping away.
- Sometimes (on days he doesn't teach classes) Jim doesn't takes a shower until 6 p.m. or later.
- Hence, his new attire consists of pajama bottoms and long-sleeve T-shirts.
- His work is never done.
- Jim's office is in the basement now that we have turning the guest/office room into a nursery. The funny part is that our basement is unfinished, meaning he has cornered off with sheets a roughed-in bathroom. His desk and bookshelf is down there along with a space heater. It is quite cozy, but it helps him to stay focused during the day away from Laura's lively activities upstairs.
- Our evenings now consist of me passed out on the couch watching reality T.V. and Jim tapping away at — you guessed it — the laptop.
- His bedtime reading has now changed to reading scholarly articles.
- Laura's comments are, "Daddy, are you going to your school day in the basement?"
- We are home together three days a week. I like to call us "one big happy family."
All joking aside, I never really understood the magnitude of completing a dissertation until recently. Jim, I am incredibly impressed at your diligence and work ethic. You make us proud.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Latest Observations
- Jim had to travel Monday and Tuesday of this week, and we really missed him. I realized all the help he offers me and fun he provides for Laura.
- I have two more weeks of work and find myself at the beginning of a transition. While I thoroughly enjoy teaching and have the perfect job, it is the best decision for me to stay home.
- Baby Miller #2 is a mover and a shaker! He/she is kicking, poking and tickling me all the time. It is truly amazing!
- Since I've been feeling rather large lately, working out helps me keep up my self-esteem, even if I am much slower at it. I've also realized that being heavier makes everything so much more difficult (sleeping, walking, getting up out of a chair), and it motivates me never to allow myself to go to pot.
- Speaking of working out, I'm ready for all the eager beavers who signed up in January to lose their steam. The parking lots and childcare at the gym are too crowded.
- Laura has grown 1/2 of an inch in two months.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Feeling Blessed
Today, while Laura and I were at the mall enjoying a few hours together, I felt so blessed.
Laura can be so protective and sweet that many times I come to tears. Several times she commented on my belly and wanted to lift my shirt and kiss the baby. As we walked through the mall, she took my hand several times and hold it for awhile. (Usually, she is a big girl and doesn't need my hand for anything.)
I am so blessed to have Laura and Jim, to have money to buy Christmas presents, to feel this child growing inside me kick, and so much more.
Don't get me wrong, being a mother is extremely challenging and hard work. I am exhausted at the end of the day; I do lose my patience; I get frustrated with disobedience; I look at my body and sigh; and I get tired of meal planning, grocery shopping, washing clothes, etc..
BUT, all that said, I am just so thankful for how richly my life has been blessed. I pray that I can thank God in good and bad times for all that has been given to me.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
On Being a Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see that I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it? I'm a satellite guide to answer 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30 please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going - she's going - she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of afriend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It washard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringin g home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices on invisible women.
The italized statement makes sense. When things are done wrong, everyone sees it.
'Therefore encourage one another, and let each one help to strengthen his friend, as in fact you do' 1 Thessalonians 5:11
Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it? I'm a satellite guide to answer 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30 please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going - she's going - she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of afriend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It washard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringin g home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices on invisible women.
The italized statement makes sense. When things are done wrong, everyone sees it.
'Therefore encourage one another, and let each one help to strengthen his friend, as in fact you do' 1 Thessalonians 5:11
Monday, February 12, 2007
Got Something to Say
Lately, I've been thinking about commitment.
I guess my students spurred these thoughts. They rarely give me a straight answer; it is always, "I don't know," not an resounding "yes" or "no."
I no longer accept an answer that isn't straightforward.
Jesus teaches in Matthew 6:37, "But let your statement be, `Yes, yes' or `No, no'; anything beyond these is of evil." That is empowering!
Many people often fail to give firm answers. I hear myself and others say, "That might work," "Maybe I can come," "It is a possibility" when we really mean, "No." When we don't give definitive answers, we wind up over-committing ourselves to lots of "maybes" in an effort to please people.
My prayer is to be a person and parent who is decisive and upfront with my family and friends.
I guess my students spurred these thoughts. They rarely give me a straight answer; it is always, "I don't know," not an resounding "yes" or "no."
I no longer accept an answer that isn't straightforward.
Jesus teaches in Matthew 6:37, "But let your statement be, `Yes, yes' or `No, no'; anything beyond these is of evil." That is empowering!
Many people often fail to give firm answers. I hear myself and others say, "That might work," "Maybe I can come," "It is a possibility" when we really mean, "No." When we don't give definitive answers, we wind up over-committing ourselves to lots of "maybes" in an effort to please people.
My prayer is to be a person and parent who is decisive and upfront with my family and friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)