I sit at my computer,
desperately adding hours to my log,
busy, concentrating,

and then
I hear soft whispers,
clinking,
and I wonder.

is there trouble?
are they naughty?

minutes pass
I log time

then two girls enter
dressed for party
or something

and instead of naughty
I find nice

they lead me

through one door
and short hall
eyes closed
we bump ankles
but I open to find

this:

a table decorated by two

like me.

Tonight is pizza night, but I think we'll be eating on better than paper plates.

More and less

The heart of a woman in love with Jesus is beautiful.

I sat last night at a table of ladies, workbooks and Bibles open,
pondering Words and life and encouraging each other.
Those I've known for a while I saw with new eyes.

I saw growth.

New peace.
New softness.
New passion.
New dependence on truth
because of the trials grace has brought us.

Because even the rough spots are grace.

We are changed because of grace
this gift of undeserved growth,
becoming something better,
that came from hearts yearning
and a Spirit's love. 

I saw my friends as new people,
confident of our God and His Way,
anxiety shrinking, faith increasing.


Those ladies and their growth blessed me.
We gather as different yet the same,
Desperate for a singular thing.
More and less.
Less of what we want.
More of what He has for us.
It is one thing,
because we can't have both together.

We want it, His will,
whatever the result.
Because either way it goes,
it will be beautiful.

Tuesdays Unwrapped - a Tuesday tradition

He is Always Good.

The cool fall breeze wafts in behind my humming sewing machine, and I sit up, stretch my back and try to relax.  The days have been stressful.

The crickets have their own hum here in the country where golden brown soybean fields stretch across my view and the lighter gold corn fills the distant hills. I gaze out the window. Everything else is yet green, but an impatient little maple turned orange.

Home School is underway.

{So}Sartina is up and running with a few promotions in the works.

Robb is halfway done with his classes that I have yet to explain to you. (Sorry! Soon, I promise!) He passed his tests, so all that remains in putting in time.

The barn project that we started before we sold our company continues.  Once started, it had to be finished, but it feels a little funny to be in the middle of a construction project and between jobs. Still, it will be lovely to have the space. There are just finishing touches left.

The crazy that is life is calming down. Or maybe I am just more at peace today. I've had my tears and worries and now I'm tired of them.

The crickets continue their hum. God continues his work in our lives. And I continue to trust that all he has for us is good. Because HE is good. Always.

Unwrapping the gift of today for Tuesdays Unwrapped.

Learning on the Rug

She asks again, and this time I have an idea. I find old towels, cut two inch strips. Most may not choose to teach or begin a new sewer on this machine, but I know she will learn to guide the fabric. Her hand will learn the feel and the tug and the hum. Her fingers will guide.

She works hard and long and we stop once or twice to adjust. I've always been the machine adjuster. The knives dull quick and the motor starts its tired sound, and we take a break. We braid.

And what was old becomes something new in the hands of a skilled worker. A rug is braided and a girl is taught to craft.

I'm glad my girl wants to learn. The passing on of these things seems almost holy. This learning to create. This using our hands.

He created. We create. Because we are made in His image.

And she is being made in mine.

For Tuesdays Unwrapped. Because I like to unwrap. :)

Lingering and Creating

Yesterday I lingered and labored over my sewing machine. It's been out of my life for three months, and I wasn't happy about it. Funny, I had no waiting projects until my machine broke. Then I had a myriad of things that needed stitching.

For one day, I too lingered and savored the last bit of summer free time, ignoring the curriculum I need to order,  the apples that need to be canned and the garage sale junk that needs to be put in the barn. I made something for me.

I've always loved making things. The quiet of my own thoughts as I work. The rewarded feeling when a project is complete. And the compliments when a creation is noticed.

I ordered a netbook last week. It can't come soon enough! And of course, my netbook needs a bag. All it's own. And no ordinary neoprene bag would do. So I made one.

Sometimes the most refreshing thing is taking the time to create.

For Tuesdays Unwrapped in answer to the question "What are you lingering over?"

Mosquito Vendor

We dropped off the oldest two at my parents' for their aunt to drive them to camp for fun and learning and such, and then the two of us went out for ice cream.

Mads and I found bistro seats outside the shop in the shade of a city beautification project tree, the ones that were planted in the middle of the sidewalk when I was in high school. She nibbled oreo cream and I, java chip. We watched as boys her brothers age biked and skateboarded past, with ice cream in hand. A man I recognized entered through the old screen door, and he looked like he may have walked up from the Marina, wearing swim trunks and muscle shirt and sun glasses.

The sun was warm.

It was a Sunday afternoon and the town went about it's lazy day.

An elderly gentleman approached us, shuffling, with a paper grocery sack in hand.

"Look here, " he said as he pulled something out with shaking hands. "Have you seen the Minnesota state bird? I make these and sell them around town for a dollar."

"One dollar?" Said I. "That's a really good price. And they commemorate the year of the mosquito plague!" I joked, thinking of this year. Man, they've been bad.

We bought two. One for daddy, to humor him who fogs and sprays and fumes to rid the yard of them, and one for Mads. The gentleman showed us other projects he had made and we admired them politely. The mosquitos were his best work. We chatted for a while about my own grandpa, who also makes wonderful wood creations in the workshop of his high rise retirement complex.  Then he hobbled off in pursuit of other customers.

Mads and I savored our treats. And under the warmth of that day's sun, I basked in small town friendliness where gray haired vendors can walk the streets, enter shops and find a welcoming smile. And maybe even a dollar or two.

Join us for more Tuesdays Unwrapped....

A Warm Healing

I snip the herb down to the last leaf pair,

and fill a basket with my cuttings.

The smell of lemon lingers.

Dreams are cut down and gathered up by others.

What is left, but a whiff of what once was.

I fill the dehydrator.

It blows hot air, a gentle furnace,

and soon leaves are ready to be crumbled.

What was green is dry, crisp, dead.

Tired ambitions. Brokenness.

A soul, fired as clay.

And yet, the essence remains.

The jar is fragrant, full.

The herb has yet a purpose.

It has a use.

A pot is filled, and boils,

steaming, whistling happily.

Poured out, it covers the dried up herb.

It becomes a warm healing. A soothing tea.

When Living Water is poured out and in and around,

broken things, crushed people, are fragrant, full.

They are a soothing cup to another's need.

 ~

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 

the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 

who comforts us in all our troubles, 

so that we can comfort those in any trouble 

with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

For Tuesdays Unwrapped today ~

Summer In a Skirt

Friends are coming.

I scurry around the kitchen in my Sunday skirt, the one I picked up yesterday at Goodwill.  I never bothered to change after service, so I should have an apron on, or something. But I don't and I like the skirt. So it stays on and I don't cover it up.

I dump the breadstick dough from the breadmaker onto the cookie sheet, the recipe with a bit of whole wheat flour. We are trying to be healthy here, you know. I smooth, and pull and stretch it out till it stays and fills the pan.

Bowls begin filling as I chop chop cukes from my own patch of earth out my kitchen window, right by the apple tree pair. I need a few more tomatoes, so, basket in hand,  I slip on my sandals and flip flop my way toward the garden, Sunday skirt and all.

Wearing it makes me happy. Wearing it in my garden makes me smile.

I pick a handful, just the beginning of that harvest, then snoop around the broccoli and grab a handful of zucchini. More zucchini. There are beans too, calling for my attention, but they will have to wait. My recipe and bread crust need me first.

Inside I go, barefooted in the kitchen, cooking in a skirt.

I attach some romance to yesteryear, and the days of buggies and bonnets and beards,
yet in the summer,
in the garden,
in a skirt,
life right now feels simple and pretty and good.

Sharing this today at Tuesday's Unwrapped. Thanks, Emily, for the weekly reminder to unwrap moments of time and see the blessing.

I Want to be a Daisy

I want to be a daisy

unassuming, humble,

willing to share my joyful face

wherever I am found.

In a prairie of grass

unseen

and alone.....

Emily is a dear to let me share her space and guest post today. Won't you join us over at Chatting at the Sky?

Every week Emily hosts Tuesday's Unwrapped  and I've come to anticipate the opportunity to unwrap little daily gifts with words. Click here for one of my favorites on having tea with hot dog lunches.

Thank You Emily!

Firstfruits

Firstfruits.

After waiting and pruning and transplanting and trying to pick a handful in a mosquito storm, a cool breeze blew enough bloodsuckers away that I finally braved the raspberry patch.

Old wood lay low, laden with scrumptious fruit. It finally offered a gift.

I ate each slowly, savoring the firstfruit.

This fact of nature holds true for me, too. With maturity comes fruit. Old wood bears the best fruit.

And He who planted me and prunes me, savors my fruit.

Nameless Cat

This pretty kitty has gifted us with his presence.

He came gently.

He found refuge and shade in the bushes next to our house, with field dirt clinging and not quiet well, messy ears and all. Though we are no animal experts around here, my husband said he needed to be shot. 

But our kids have loved him and cuddled him and sneaked him leftovers and he's still here. After so many rough kids lugging him around, I'm surprised. Never a scratch or a hiss, though, poor cat.

He doesn't look so bad now and seems to like the IAMS I bought him. He waits on the stoop for food and love and must think this place is his home.

If he sticks around long enough, we may just think it is too.

Sharing little gifts today, for Tuesdays Unwrapped.

Dragonflies for Liz

These are the kind of bug I love.
They don't bother me.
They don't bite or buzz or sting.

I equate them with the lake.
Alighting on the dock.
Skimming the water.

So, to have them at the farm
with its wide open fields
giving view to storms
and sunrises
and sunsets
is a kind remembrance
of sunshine
and water
and all the views
of the lake's wide open spaces.

Sharing today for Liz, who grew up on this farm with the dragonflies, and for Tuesdays Unwrapped hosted by chattingatthesky.com (and posting with my phone because it is raining, so my satellite internet is down. Forgive the lack of a link?)

Chasing Sunshine

Two girls and a boy passed their day chasing butterflies (and moths) and sunshine. A butterfly house filled and fluttered with Red Admiral and Cabbage butterflies. Then splashing in the pool they played and rinsed sweat and heat. Back and forth. Nets and noodles. Sun kissed cheeks and sun tired bodies.

Summer commences.

(contented sigh)

She Made Cookies

A mother's fears haunt me. Am I doing enough, teaching enough, modeling well? Am I equipping my children with the necessary tools for future success? Those fears nag. Not always. But often.

And then my nine year old daughter makes cookies. All by herself. Perfect little ones. She's careful and precise and doesn't burn a one. She even successfully doubles the recipe.

As I munch on a dainty morsel, so cute, it nestles on the rim of my garage sale find saucer,
 

I know I can't do and be everything she needs me to be. I'll teach her what I know and when I lose my patience and take it out on her, I'll apologize, and start with fresh resolve to die to self. Again. And the One I trust her to will fill the gaps because she is His and I am His and He is our God.

And at least she knows how to make cookies.

Unwrapping the gift of cookies I didn't have to make for Tuesdays Unwrapped:

My Me Time

(cell phone pic)

We've been under the weather around here for almost 5 days. Robb and I have been, anyway. The kids are fine. Fine enough to think they run the house while the adults in the family nap and go to bed at 8:30pm. Unfortunately, school has taken second place to my rest. But we homeschool, so we can stretch it out until the end of June if need be, right? HA! Notsomuch.

A friend texted yesterday and asked about setting up a park playdate, and though I knew maybe I shouldn't because of how I've been feeling, achy joints and all, I couldn't say no. I checked the weather forecast and today was to be the nicest day for the next week. Around here, we soak up the sun as often as we can.

So we packed up and headed out to our favorite park. I'd made iced tea, but had no ice, so we detoured to McDonalds to pick up a cup of ice. And while we were there, who could resist a Frappe? Not me! I found my me time, just like the commercial promised. :)

No, really, my happy place was lounging on a cozy blanket and chatting with my friend, while the kids ran around under the warm sun. I think I even got a sunburn. I'm gonna burn these bugs right out me. 

Frappes, friends and freckles. Wonderful gifts.

I don't think it's necessary to say, but I will anyway. I am not being compensated for this post. I paid for my Mc Frappe with my own money. 

Just in case anyone cares. ;)

The Sugared Violet

Rifling through science and nature books, I stumble upon a reminder.

A field of violets awaits.

A bit of egg white, a spoonful of sugar, and we taste test the dainty flower.

A petal, gingerly, at first.

Then the whole glittery thing shoved in greedy mouth.

A rush of children head outdoors for more of the yummy delicacy.

And I am left to wonder. Which is sweeter? The flower or the sugar?

Red Ladies

After a winter of dead ones in the window sills, and an early spring of them waking from their slumber and crawling on my window frames and curtains.

After vacuuming hundreds and giving up, and cursing the fool who brought them here.

After smelling their rank odor and explaining that they do not bite but rather pinch and that those piles of dead bugs may not be dead after all, but hibernating.

And after saying how many times that they are Asian Beetles, not Lady Bugs.

After all this, I was thrilled today to see the elusive red ladies instead of their prolific impostor.

Finding gifts on Tuesdays for Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

I'm a Lake Girl

The ice is out.
The dock is in.

My sandals on,
Under spring sun, I sit.

This dock is memory full.

At seven or so,
I learn to ski with dad as motor.
I'm sent out.
He runs in toward shore.
Between us a rope.
I stand on water, glide, learn.

Summer after summer,
I think suits are proper attire.
In the garden,
In the house,
On the dock or deck,
In the boat.
All those years,
A suit is my uniform.

Skiing, swimming.
Seaweed fights.
Spearing catfish.
Stupid things.
Tubing, laughing.
Boating, lounging.

I soak up the sun.

Lake sunrises.

Late evening boat rides.

Memories abound.

I'm a Lake Girl and  I've got water in my blood.
Hurry, sun, warm the water.
The dock awaits and promises a new season of wet, sun kissed days.

Unwrapping the gift of my parents' dock and all the screws I stripped making it......

A Gift of Moments Past

Many years ago, more than ten, at least, a grandmother lovingly wrapped yarn 'round needle, 

tenderly tucking bonnets and sweaters away for great-grandbabies she would never know.

Those quiet moments of needlework give way to these, 

the few moments of her little life, when Victoria will don tiny bonnet and sweater 

and be wrapped in her great-grandmother's love.

Today's You Capture theme is A Moment, hosted by I Should Be Folding Laundry.

And....if you have an answered prayer you'd like to share, 

Filed Under Grace: Documenting Answered Prayer returns this weekend. 

Come back and link up on Saturday, alrighty?

Reflection on the First Walk of Spring

Winter clings, yet cannot maintain it's grip on a world succumbing to the power of the Son.

The old and dead, those things we wish weren't, but were, 

give nutrients, richness, insight, maturity to a fresh start. 

When given to Christ, they become useful.

They grow faith.

The love of this Son compels us to reach, reach, upward, 

toward Light and growth. New life. The old is gone. The new has come. 

He promised.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!

2 Corinthians 5:17

This post has been shared at Chatting at the Sky for Tuesdays Unwrapped

Today, I am also buzzing over to A Soft Place to Land and sharing my post from last week when I shared my Easter Tree with you all. To see other DIY projects visit her every Tuesday.