my life – The Welcome Home

Quintessential Motherhood

Throughout the week I wonder what the LORD would have me to write. In an attempt to convey a message from my heart, I have the usual distactions. Distractions, buzzers, timers, calls, the dryer’s beep-beep-beep, the knocking at the back door… distractions. And then I thought: distractions? No: life. Life is what’s happening when we’re waiting and planning for something else to happen. And then I think on this further and wonder: is this the story of my motherhood experience? Has it all happened while I was waiting for something else to happen? Have the days passed by while I was looking for a brighter tomorrow or a better way of doing things? While hurry-scurrying around, gathering, sorting, washing, folding, packing… suddenly the time comes.

Suddenly the time-clock runs out and this game is over or the hour comes for the leaving… This is quintessential motherhood.

Years ago, I came inside from the chilly porch where I hugged one of our sons and waved him good-bye-for-now as he drove away. The darkness was giving way to light with the early morning sun casting a pink glow on the snow, tears flooded my eyes and instantly, all the compelling rush was completely forgotten in the haze of the exhaust and the taillights slowly dimming in the distance. I stood there in the cold-still waving… the asl sign for i-love-you… and found myself wondering—questioning—what significant thing had I contributed to that remarkable boy’s life? Was there anything noteworthy? All at once I thought of many things I’d forgotten to remember—things I suddenly realized I meant to say. Memories instantly flooded my mind — sort of like those endearing slideshows you see at weddings — the emotionally gripping photos that chronicle lives and bring tears and laughter simultaneously one frame after another.

Part of the calling of motherhood is that there will be suffering. There will be days of joy and and days of sorrow. Sort of that paradoxical truth that in every adversity there is triumph and in every joy there is an inextricable mix of delight and sorrow. The sorrow part is the part we didn’t read in the fine print. The sorrow part is one of the consequences of endearment — one of the consequences I didn’t perhaps expect when I first received the confirmation call from the doctor’s office or when we first saw the indicator lines in the home-pregnancy test kit. No, in those days, we had no idea what lay ahead, what tears we’d shed or how many sleepless nights we’d spend waiting and walking. Waiting for a child to return home or walking a crying baby from one end of the living room to the other: round and round.

No, in the early days, we had no idea what lay in store a few years down the road. We had no grasp of where those first baby-steps would take those feet. We had no concept that snow-tires would eventually replace those training wheels. Even now, I probably have no real grasp of what the consequences of motherhood are. Just as I can’t fathom the exhilaration of tremendous joy, I can’t fathom the plummeting sorrow—both are those inexplicable consequences of endearment and motherhood.

I’ve often said I wasn’t prepared for these years—the gripping anguish of regret and disappointment, the overwhelming joy proud moments bring and the unstoppable ticking of the clock and the turning of the calendar pages. It seems new calendars are purchased more frequently now. But in reality, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD has been with me, guiding, abiding and upholding me —preparing me for each of the next days He’s brought. The preparation has been in the living. Bidding farewell to passing seasons and ushering in new ones prepares us for these goodbyes.

It’s quintessential motherhood: fully experiencing of all the seasons over and over. Experience, history… photographs and memories all prepare us for these goodbyes. As I look out at the morning glow on the snow… and then at the leafless, frost covered branches of my weeping willow tree, there’s sort of a melancholy hopeful looking forward to what this day will bring and how I’ll one day look back on this day.

I smile as I realize that with every good bye… there’s a welcome home. In the end, the true joy is looking to the ultimate welcome home.

May the LORD bless you and bless you in your home today.

Why didn’t I do this sooner?

I have in a folder a heap of “draft” blog entries — some dating back several years. I was going to just ‘blindly’ delete the whole folder since I generally write inspired by studies, current events, or experiences for single entries, message series, or Bible studies.

Today I reread the following entry, written two years ago in the midst of an activity that lasted a couple of months. What’s interesting to me is that while this happened two years ago, hindsight demonstrates it was just a precursor to what began to happen just before this new year, this 2021 year.

Written February 2019

As I go through our home in this process of eliminating clutter, I keep wondering, why didn’t I do this sooner? And, you know what? I have no good answer except that it wasn’t time yet for this overly-sentimental girl. I don’t know if I wasn’t ready for the work or if I didn’t have the prompting to do it or if I just thought: forget it, the task is too daunting — but one thing’s for certain: I didn’t know what I didn’t know!

I think that’s one of the greatest deterrents of not doing things: not knowing what we don’t know. As an example, I didn’t know it would feel so nice to have space between items in a cabinet — to have empty spots on a shelf or plenty of room in an area. All I know is that at the end of the year as I was putting away our Christmas decorating items, I had a sudden urgency to get busy decluttering our home.

Somewhere around Christmastime we got wind of a local newspaper article regarding an update for the progress of the airport expansion near our home — we’ve had knowledge of the proposal for well over four years now (well, actually for a couple of decades), but this news just seemed more certain. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]the clean slate of the new year was before me and clutter was in the way.[/cp_quote]That’s a hard hard story for another day, but it dawns on me now that I must’ve internalized that news and without intentionally acknowledging it — that, or I finally recognized the clean slate of the new year was before me and clutter was in the way. Whatever the case, I’m glad it happened that I felt an urgent need to go through every room {not the bedrooms of the two kids at home} and eliminate clutter.

This is the first time in 41 years that we’ve had an “extra” room in our home. It’s also our final year of homeschooling — thirty one years of homeschooling has meant accumulation of all sorts of materials, a permanent “homeschool area” filled with books, and arts and craft supplies. So that ‘extra room’ and the closing of our homeschooling chapter has allowed me to ‘permanently’ set up my sewing machine and have a stamping & paper crafting/hobby room. With a guest bed. ~smile~ Why didn’t I do this before now? I couldn’t.

But this brings me to thinking about why we don’t eliminate clutter, why don’t we clean out things? Why do we put off getting rid of things or the work of deeply-cleaning our homes? Maybe we don’t know we’d someday wonder why didn’t we do this sooner?!?

It seems that we think we’ve got a lot more time than we do. So, in all this work {and the thinking time I’ve had in it} the interesting lesson I’m learning is to tackle things that come to mind: today if at all possible, to use and appreciate the things I have, to be content with and purposeful about things — bcz I sure don’t like this recent feeling of wondering why I didn’t do this sooner. And, today’s all I’ve really got.

[I wrote about this process here, here, and here

ReBlogging

Lots of women do this. Every day they do this. For years I wrote every day. But then a reality check came. And the reality was this: I was so consumed with doing all I was doing that I forgot/neglected what I was supposed to be doing.

I think lots of early sites, early website designers/builders and then bloggers fell into this same thing: out of control distraction! I’ve had the honor and privilege of talking with some of them over the years. One such blogger, Keri Lamar, who faced a similar ‘day of reckoning, is the author of Present: How one woman pulled the plug on distraction to connect with real life. It’s worthwhile reading (along with the Present Journal).

In the 90’s, internet was new and thrilling —a time of information explosion— bulletin boards, seemingly unlimited content, email, internet chatrooms/groups/platforms were big. Really big. And SO easy! The allure was amazing, captivating and intoxicating. And captivated we were — sometimes for hours on end. Days evaporated. I’ve written from time to time about this early {and ongoing} distraction and time drain (Here and many other posts on internet addiction).

Once I got hooked on internet lists/groups, I began to gather material and content to begin building a website for women, homemakers/home educators after the manner of Titus2. The learning curve was steep and sometimes exasperating as I worked at learning html coding, creating site content and images. It was helpful and instructive to receive supportive email (and occasional naysayer mails, too). I loved what I was doing and the encouragement others were gleaning. Problem was, I didn’t notice what I wasn’t doing. My distraction was encroaching on my calling as a wife and mother/homemaker and years of yoyo-ing in an attempt to find balance ensued.

Fast forward to today. The last ten plus years have given much perspective. Through valleys of depression, extreme lack of confidence, lack of purpose, hope and worth, I’ve been learning more and more about the love and mercy of God. The Lord is only good. The Lord is only faithful. All the time. No matter where we’ve been, what we’ve done (or haven’t!) God is good and has good things for us — working all things together for His glory and our good.

It is of the Lord‘s mercies that we are not consumed,
because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is Thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3.22-23

As I prepared to write this post, I felt that nagging feeling that I had no business doing this. But I desire to carry on using/sharing the gifts God’s given me, what God’s done for me, what God’s done in and through me. Prior to the internet and all that’s transpired, I was writing — from newsletters, guides and booklets to Bible studies and various retreat talks and programs.

And so now… I’d like to {again} more regularly share some experiences and observations here.

I’ll be re-blogging as He leads me. ♥ —ps

In This Strange Season

In this strange season I attempted to ‘rethink’ this blog, realign it, redirect it. And, for the life of me, I haven’t been able to “get it” or come to a resolution. But, here’s my attempt…

In this past year—this strange season, many changes have occurred in my life and our home. In this strange season (as in your strange season, no doubt) the changes and restrictions have forced me to think about or, rethink what I’m doing, what’s important, what’s got to change or, really, what ought to be eliminated.

And it’s not just things, it’s not just eliminating clutter or getting rid of things we no longer use or need. It’s more than that. It’s coming to the strange realization that a season is passing away and a new one is dawning. And with this new dawn, eliminating things, activities, routines, expectations and planning of events that were necessary for the season that’s passing and yet, will be unnecessary for the season ahead.

Nothing and everything has prepared me for this strange season. The constant that I’ve resorted to through many years is: Do the next right thing. Another constant is recalling what did I do? whenever I was facing a completely “new normal” or a “strange season” — motherhood, postpartum, another move, another new baby, homeschooling, teenagers, financial strains, another move, more babies, married-in’s, more teenagers, losses, more married-in’s, grand babies, life’s surprises, health issues… you get the idea.

So, what’s my next right thing now? You know what? I don’t know—I mean I don’t know the big picture. I’ve been a mother for over 41 years and now for all intents and purposes have an empty nest—but am still a homemaker. I don’t know how I want to do the days ahead… But what I do know is this: as I embark on this strange season, I want to do what I will wish I had done. This thought quite often helps me decide what the next right things is. My hope is that each next right thing or each next right step will be through open doors and the days ahead will be more fruitful than the former days.

The Covid-19 virus and all the societal changes that have come as a result have really clouded, hindered, or suppressed creative thought for me —maybe (and probably!) for you, too. The lockdown brought some pretty depressing weeks. And now, I look back and it seems the past 5 months have just evaporated in all the busyness of life and “distancing”, creatively keeping in contact with our kids and grandkids, but not seeing friends and church family (in real life) and figuring out how to do/buy/get things differently and yet still accomplish the work — and the new-normal Zoom communication.

In the midst of the strangeness, I lost creativity… I didn’t write. I didn’t journal. I didn’t draw. I didn’t write letters. I didn’t make any wedding cakes.

I did prune trees, plants, hedges. I did read. I did make lots of masks (I hate masks!). I did plant and regularly tend to the gardens. I did bake and (with my husband) drive all around several times to deliver boxes of a variety of baked goods to the homes of each of our children/grandchildren. I did clean and sort a lot of things. I did Bible studies. I made birthday cakes. I did and will do a bunch of canning. And I’m making plans……….

But nothing’s been normal. And I want guard against all this strangeness becoming normal. So, as I said, I want to be about the business of doing what I will wish I had done in this next season. That, and I don’t want to look back and regret any longer what I didn’t do in this strange, strange season.

more later… ♥ps

Jumping Off The High Dive

Now, many decades ago, I climbed the steep steps up to the high dive at our local community pool in Southern California where I was raised. I’d been swimming most all my life (it was a given that most all the homes had a swimming pool) and from a young age I was able to dive and do back flips, etc., off the diving board. I wasn’t afraid of the water or the depth of pools. But the high dive was daunting. So high. I don’t recall how long it took me to muster the courage to mount those steps or to walk to the end of the board. I know it was not brief. But I did it… I walked to the end of the board and jumped. As I recall, the water initially felt like hitting a hard surface and then, suddenly, I was down and swimming up to the pool ledge. And, climbing out, I jumped again.

I thought of this recently when I decided to look into attending a local gathering. I saw the opportunity and instantly wanted to go. I mean, really wanted to go. And, I had (have) no idea exactly why! I read the information, and as I read, those old steps began to look daunting and the whole thing too big, too high. Too high for me. I closed my computer and determined not to think of the matter any longer. A few days passed and I was drawn to consider the event again. What was drawing me to this event? I don’t honestly know — but I know this, if I don’t jump in somewhere, sometime, I’m kinda worried I’ll never “swim” again. My consideration led me to write to one of my daughters… and in so doing I threw out the idea that I’d like to go to this gathering — and described it to her. I was shocked {but not at all surprised} that she wrote back with a, heck yes, I’ll go with you… I’ll pick you up!

Had I been told, ten years ago exactly, that this would be happening as it is, I’d never have believed it. Sincerely, not in a million years.

So now I’m standing at the top of the steps, but not to the end of the board. It’s high and the stretch to the end of the board is long, and in a day I’ll walk to the end of the board and jump into our daughter’s car and go to the gathering.

I’d like to tell you about it all… and I will.

Tidying. You’re Still You.

The problem with attempting to make dramatic changes, or to carry out new resolutions, or most anything, really, is that we’re still the same people with the same proclivities, habits, personal styles, bents. The tidying, or in my case, the project of eliminating clutter, only lasts as long as the determination/work/project continues. No matter where you are in the project of eliminating clutter or tidying, you’re still you.

You’re still you. I’ve had to repeat this to myself many times in the last couple of weeks as I see myself “dropping my guard” on eliminating clutter. Just recognizing this has been inspiring. And I’ve remembered a couple of old adages: It didn’t get this way over night and its not going to go away over night, and: Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

As the weeks pass, and still maintaining the mindset of working to eliminate clutter and possessions, I’m sure seeing that no matter where I am in this process: I’m still me and this is a process, not a race. No one’s keeping score and there’s not an arbitrary finish line. I understood this when I made the decision to not sort and eliminate the boxes of mementos and memorabilia. But I still seem to operate as if there’s a score being kept or a standard not yet met.

An important revelation for me was to realize that I didn’t need to try and be someone else. I’m still me and am just fine being me. I’ve spent over forty years being a wife and mother to eleven children and have had decades of learning how to arrange, make space and organize things. I really don’t want to start over and do things differently–I won’t be able to maintain that persona, know what I mean? I don’t need new methods, I need to apply what I already know! This is freedom!! I hope if you’re on this track, you’ll see your freedom, too!

I watched a few episodes of the Netflix reality series Tidying Up. I mentioned in a previous post that I stopped watching after a few episodes bcz I didn’t need/want to learn new ways of storing things or folding clothes,— that, and I couldn’t get into living other people’s clutter drama. I also didn’t need a new mindset concerning possessions. I bristled at the thought of thanking items before setting them in the discard box. As I mentioned in a previous post, I had already taken to thanking the Lord for His provision and the use I had for the items I discarded (and I even sought forgiveness for the carelessness I’d exhibited for the several items I bought but never used). But even as I “fast-forwarded” through the shows, what I saw inspired me to stay my course and keep eliminating and organizing my “new normal.”

I already know how sort, clean, and organize things well and I already have an ample supply of plastic bins, containers, and drawers. I like the way I fold things, I like to order and arrange things. I know the flow of our home, and have learned by trial and error where things go best. I like the ways we use space in this old farmhouse. All that to maybe inspire you to take a look at your life and recognize your strengths and abilities, too.

In all this clutter elimination and tidying, I’m still me – with all my abilities, successes, failures, quirks and flaws.

And if you’re in the process, remember this: you’re still you! If you’ve got tidying to do (or like me, have the arduous task of a massive elimination of items!), keep in mind: if you won’t use it, no longer need it, want it, like it: Let it go! Thank the Lord for His provisions, repent if that’s in order, muster up the strength to do what you can/must for the day, tidy up your house and live a joyful, clutter-free, ordered life.

Clutter is Relative

There’s a saying, One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I kept this in mind from time to time as I proceeded through my month-long activity of eliminating clutter in our home. I also had in mind a couple of other thoughts that sort of guided my process: I’m doing this for me and our family and clutter is relative! After an initial confrontation, I purposely blocked out a couple of thoughts: cost/origin of the item and other’s opinions/style. I kept in mind the goal of eliminating clutter, living in our new normal, gratitude for the past activities/needs/possessions, and keeping home home.

Guilt was the first giant I had to ~~slay~~ tackle. I didn’t realize how big this was! I felt very guilty (and have many times through the years) for getting rid of items that were no longer useful, no longer fit, or just weren’t right. (This is, in part, where my clutter is relative thought comes from.) Guilt was a giant for me. After a mental confrontation, a freeing thought came along — and it was in the form of a prayer of sorts. I said, Lord, thank You for this_____, for what it cost, how it’s been used and what was accomplished here. I would repeat that ‘prayer’ many times as items went out the back door. The giant, guilt, is a formidable foe, but must be seen for what it is. And the more I faced it, the easier it was to say: I no longer need this, use this, want this, or like this ITEM! Yes, there was a bit of regret, but no guilt, no shame in that.

I did have regrets — some regret that I hadn’t used items I’d bought — regret that they had become either obsolete, irrelevant to the next season or I never learned to incorporate them into our family activities/schooling/etc. All that, or I never even liked them. Other regrets were the time or money spent on items. To those regrets I answered with repentant thanksgiving — thanksgiving and reality. I’m thankful we had this or that item, yes, it cost a lot for us, but now it’s no longer needed, no longer necessary. And won’t be in the future. Whatever happened before this day must be a guide for my future purchases and acquisitions. Instruction gained: Do I need it? Will it be useful? Do I really like it? Am I doing this for someone else/some other reason?

This is where the clutter is relative thought kept coming to mind. I got rid of so much clutter, I reorganized/eliminated so many items, shelves, drawers, cabinets, etc. But our home didn’t even begin to start looking like a hotel room or an airB&B with few/no mementos or personalized style. My style did not become minimalist — even though there are areas with minimal items — there are areas that appear unretouched. On purpose. But! The clutter (for me!) is eliminated. An aside: I kept to a decorating standard – I reduced items on a table or shelf to groupings of three. Aesthetically, it is pleasing to me and curbs my (seemingly insatiable) need to fill space.

One more thought today… I came to a realization that there are a couple of areas I’m not going to address right now. Weeks ago, in the big closet reorg, I pulled out several large boxes of cards, letters, memorabilia… all over the floor, I began sorting. And then I decided: I’m not going to be bound by a set of arbitrary rules to go through every single space and eliminate every single thing I’m not using. I’m not ready to decide that quite yet. So, I put everything back in the boxes and neatly stacked them. When I look at them now, they aren’t clutter to me, they’re things I know I’ve loved a long time and have purposely decided I’ll go through them again another day. They’re not clutter – this is us, this isn’t someone else’s home, yes, I may die before I get to some of these other things, but for now I don’t have a specific timeline, there aren’t rules of clutter-engagement. One woman’s trash is another woman’s treasure. These are treasures to me. That, and clutter is relative.