Elevation~

No, I’m not talking about altitude.  I’m talking about priorities, principles, and preferences.  I’m all for them by the way.  You know, priorities, principles and preferences.  However, recently I’ve been pondering their effect on our lives… and visa versa.  You see, it isn’t difficult to allow our priorities to be trampled.  What we thought was essential to our lives is often trampled by the needs of the moment, our laziness, and a myriad of other reasons.  Principles are often tossed aside in a moment because we don’t know how to implement them or worse, don’t want the trouble of doing so.

However, I’m noticing another trend.  Elevation of priorities, principles, and preferences above the place they’ve been given in scripture.  I’m trying to be careful here.  I don’t ever want to protest that someone or something is “too scriptural”.  How ludicrous is that!  I do believe that we can and do elevate things above their intended spot in scripture.

For a riduculous example… the principle of doing unto others.  The point is, treat others as well as we want to be treated.  This is an excellent thing.  If, however, we make this more important than simple salvation, we’ve elevated it to an unscriptural level.  All of the right treatement in the world will not cleans a heart blackened by sin.  I think this might be one of the things Paul meant when he said, “All things in moderation.”  Not that he meant we should strive for mediocrity but that in proper proportion, things will hold their rightful places in our lives.

I believe that children are a gift from the Lord.  I believe that they are a blessing that Christians should desire.  I believe that children reared for God’s glory are spiritual weapons against Satan and his power in this world.  I believe that children are undervalued in our culture and often reduced to little more than trophies, toys, and pets.  I also believe that in a knee jerk reaction to the world, some godly Christian women idolize their children and the possibility of future arrows in their quiver.  Priorities and principles are elevated to an unhealthy level where the beauty of motherhood becomes an unhealthy and often gluttonous desire for more more more.  This isn’t Biblical.  The principle is.  The principle of rearing children to God’s glory is most certainly Biblical and right.  The inappropriate elevation of it above the plans God made for it are not.

I tried to show this to a woman that I loved, admired, and respected.  She was my Titus 2 mentor for years.  I miss her.  The one area we disagreed most strongly on was my choice to trust that the Lord would choose the most optimal timing for the birthing of my children.  It bothered her each time I called to tell her I was pregnant again so I started calling and saying, “I have some great news and I’m really excited.  So I’m going to tell you my news and then hang up.  Please don’t call until you can be happy for me.  I’m pregnant.”

She mistakenly assumed that I had become this woman who elevates pregnancy to an unhealthy level.  She truly did not understand that I could have never had another child after my third, fourth, fifth…. etc and been totally content.  I truly do not believe I would have been bothered.  This is just my personality.  So, I tried to show her.  When Ethan was three or four, I called one day and said, “I have some great news and I’m really excited.  So I’m going to tell you my news and then hang up.  Please don’t call until you can be happy for me.  I’m not pregnant!”

It backfired.  Hugely.  A month or two later she commented when I mentioned being happy to accept more that she remembered when I wasn’t so excited about the idea.  But, her viewpoint was so skewed in this direction she couldn’t see what I was trying to say.  I think that was when I gave up hoping she’d ever understand us in that area.  However, it’s a good illustration in how we can have unBiblically elevated principles and priorities.  (And perceived ones too!)

This happens in so many areas.  Academics vs. limited academics.  Some parents try to combat the exponential failure of the government school systems by insisting on the highest academic standards of anyone.  Education is unwittingly elevated to a god.  Or, in a knee-jerk reaction to that kind of thing, education is something schluffed off to the side and ignored.  Children barely read, hardly write, and are fortunate to know basic math facts before their parents finally “graduate” them and are thrilled that amid it all, the children can recite huge chunks of scripture and know an entire hymnal by heart.  While those are excellent things to know, they have devalued education to what, in my opinion, is an unhealthy degree.

Modesty, entertainment, vocations… all can be elevated beyond a scriptural standard.  Scripture doesn’t demand that everyone cover their necks, wrists, and ankles.  It isn’t a sin to do so but it is a sin to madate what scripture has not.  Entertainment is in the realm of Christian Liberty but if we make it more important than the Word or scriptural standards, we’re elevating it to a God-likeness which is idolatry.  There are people who will say that Christians do not belong in the military, medical, emergency, police, and similar fields.  The reasoning is that they will be innundated with a godless culture.

For example, a policeman may learn more about child pornography than any human being should ever have to know.  This is abhorrent and it should be!  Some would elevate “setting no evil thing before my eyes” above the protection of children.  Is this scriptural?  I would love to say this isn’t true but I’ve seen it and heard it myself.  (And no HK ladies, this has nothing to do with the mudroom thread!)

Women are scripturally to be under the protection of men.  I believe this.  I think I can support this easily with scripture.  However, if we elevate this principle to an unhealthy degree, we find ourselves making mandates that scripture doesn’t.  If a wife is under her husband’s protection, then can she leave his presence?  What about when he goes to work?  Is she still under that protection since she’s under his roof?  What about shopping?  What about a trip to the next city for a conference?  What about listening to CD’s by various ministries?  What if the teacher pricks her heart with something the husband wouldn’t want?  Did he protect her?  Is she out from under his protection by listening?

Taking it one step further, can said wife leave their town, fly to another state, and visit friends without the protection of her husband?  Is she out from under his protection if she is away from his presence?  Her parents are dying, he can’t take off work, so she lets them die alone because to leave is to be out from under his protection?  How is this Biblical?  Yet I’ve seen similar things taught.

Anyone who knows me at all, KNOWS that I don’t like exception clauses.  Give me the scriptural principle and let’s just live it.  Let’s not get hung up in the what ifs and the but maybes.  I think those are usually excuses for ignoring the hard truths that we must obey.  Submission by me isn’t dependent upon proper treatment by Kevin.  Obedience by my children isn’t dependent upon my perfection.  I wouldn’t encourage that kind of thinking at all.

I just wonder how much we’re taking our principles and elevating them above God’s intentions. Scripture is clear what the principles should be.  They’re actually quite simple.  But if we make these principles in our lives more important than other principles because they make us feel or look good… shame on us.  The Christian life isn’t a formula.  We don’t take a bunch of principles, apply them like  a to-do list, and then kick back and reap rewards of perfect lives.  Scripture never promised us that.  There is a general truth of that.  In the grand scheme of things, we do reap what we sow.  But there is more to it than walking along and diligently dropping a seed in each meticulous hole and then leaving the field and waiting for harvest. 

But that’s for another blog.

Mind Control~

It’s the stuff of science fiction and spy thrillers.  It’s the Manchurian Candidate and Heroes.  And… like it or not, it’s scripture.  Scripture is all about mind control.  The Word constantly tells us what to think, how to think, when to think, and even tells us where our affections and loyalties should lie.  We have our marching orders and we are to obey.  Like it or not.

This flies in the face of modern thinking.  We’re taught, daily and in all areas of society, that we need to “think for ourselves” and that you can’t “help what you love.”  Scripture says, in less crass terminology, ‘horsepucky’. 

Mark 12:30-  And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your MIND….

What is to be in that mind with which we are ordered to love the Lord our God?

Colossians 3:2- Set your mind on the things above, not on the things of the earth.

Romans 8:5-6-  For those who are according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those of the Spirit according to the things of the Spirit.  For the mind set on the flesh is death but the mind set on the Spirit is life an peace.

I wonder… when my spiritual life seems dead and/or there is turmoil in my heart, is it possible that the very simple answer is that my mind is set on things of the flesh instead of on the Spirit?  Is it possible that all  (as if all is some simplistic and easy step) I need to do is renew my mind and replace my fleshly, fallible, and human thoughts and thought patterns with Scripture and indeed “put on Christ”? 

I think that because it is a simple concept we equate that with easy.  Simple isn’t always, (or usually!) easy.  Simple is often difficult, hard work, and painful.  Imagine my life in a pleasant safe town, full of appliances and other devices to make my work easy and my “burden” light,  with everything I could need for comfort and earthly happiness at my disposal.  Compare it with the Amish family… or the Chinese laborer… or the African bushman.  Their lives are simpler than mine but they most certainly aren’t easier.  We cry out and crave simplicity but is it because of the rewards that simplicity can bring or is it because we have a mixed-up notion that simple equals ease.  But that’s for another blog.

Every day I think of Paul’s statement in Romans 7:19 that I loosely paraphrase… “All the good and right things that I want to do, I don’t do.  Instead, I do all the things that I hate myself for.”  It comes to my mind daily and daily I remind myself that putting on the mind of Christ is something I must do daily.  This is a good thing for me.  What I don’t get is why I don’t DO it.  I remind myself… and then I don’t.  And then I’m Paul in Romans 7:19 all over again.

Have you ever listened to yourself as you speak?  Do your words drip with the honey of scripture or sear with the poison of the world?  Do you have speech seasoned well with Scriptural ’salt’ or are they bland… or worse over salted?!  Your thoughts, ideas, and dreams- have you ever disected them with the knife of Scripture?

Mind control.  We’re called to it.  It’s only a negative thing if it comes from any source other than the Lord.  Who controls your mind?  Ouch.  That hymn is running through my mind again.  It has been doing that often lately.  The one line runs over an over like the surf on the beach turning a rock over and over polishing it.   ” … none of self and all of Thee.”

1 Corinthians 2:16- For who has known the mind of the Lord that He will instruct him?  But we have the mind of Christ.

I’ve Come to Realize That…

Hearth Keepers has a fun and wonky thread going on.  I’ve been mulling it for a while and decided to have fun with it over here.  I’m weird that way. 

1. I’ve come to realize that my ex:  Ex what?  Con?  I wasn’t going to tell anyone about that.  This stupid thing has already outed me.  Well, not OUTED me. I don’t need to be truly “outed”.  Not like that! Really.  I’m not protesting too much!  It’s just that well… hmm ”I’ve come to realize that my ex is the blog I destroyed when I tried to cover my ex convict status that I don’t even have.”  No I’m not protesting too much again.  AAAAK.

2. I’ve come to realize that I talk:   Do I?  Do I talk?  Hmm… I guess I do.  I kind of forgot about that mode of communication. Blog now… If it said “I’ve come to realiz that I blog:”  Then I’d have an answer. How do I say I talk.  Do I say “Without an accent” or “With an accentless accent?”   Or, does it mean something like how much or how fast or-  Wait, I know.  It means the quality of my speech.  That’s a difficult one.  I  mean if you take everything I say every day and line t up between deep, inane, and neutral, you’d get a lot of neutral and a smidge of deep or inane.    So the answer is… “I’ve come to realize that I talk.  Period.”

3. I’ve come to realize that I love :   Duh!  Of course I do.  Don’t ever’body?  (Said in my best Lina Lamont voice)  Now if you want to know what I love, that’d depend upon the time of day, the context, and whether I’ve had a recent infusion of chocolate.  Preferrably Sees.

4. I’ve come to realize I have:  No idea what I’m talking about.  I know not to end a sentence in about (see previous sentence) but I don’t know  that of which I speak.  Assuming I’m speaking.  Perhaps if I don’t talk, I’ll realize that this particular section of this thing is moot.  I like it.  Simple yet effective. 

5. I’ve come to realize that I lost :  Don’t tell me that!  I’m tired of losing!  I want to win!  Win!  WIN!  Nope.  I refuse to acknowledge that this is one of the questions that I’m supposed to answer.  This is unlucky number five and like buildings without thirteenth floors, this list doesn’t have a question five.

6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when :   Hmm… hate.  Now this is difficult.  Scripture equates hate to murder.  What would I love to murder.  Mice.  Yeah.  I  hate it (become murderous) when mice have the audacity to try to occupy the same living space as me.  I’m not exactly Grace Buscher but I really do not think that with the whole vast desert at their disposal, mice need to try to live in MY house.  That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.  Murder huh?  Think PETA might be upset?

7. I’ve come to realize that marriage:  Is highly underrated.  Seriously.  If you don’t know why, do something to improve your marriage or find a marriage to enter.  You won’t regret it. 

8. I’ve come to realize that, somewhere, someone is thinking :  “Is it that hard to put on a new roll of toilet paper?”   I think this one is pretty self-explanatory.

9. I’ve come to realize that, I’ll always be:  Me.  No seriously.  Think about it.  We’ll always be us.  Why try to be who we were never intended to be because that is how people “wear” themselves this year.  One year it’s efficient, the next relaxed.  Now it’s romantically feminine, later it’s tailored and classic.  How about we just be ourselves.  That means one thing for me, one for you, and another for her over there.  Isn’t it a marvelous world?  Why try to be anyone but ourselves.  Who wants to look like another hanger on the Mervyn’s rack.  (That’s metaphoric.  I’m not talking about clothing per se.  Get with the analogy people.)

10. I’ve come to realize that, I have a crush on :   A little baby girl.

11. I’ve come to realize that, the last time I truly cried was:   At first I couldn’t remember.  Then I did.  It was something to do with Knox Andersen.  It was about a month to six weeks ago.  I don’t usually do tears.  When I do, I tend to do it in the shower.  Alone.  Seeing mom cry is such an unusual sight (I can’t just MAKE me cry so it’ more common) that it tends to frighten my children.

12. I’ve come to realize that my cell phone is:  Something that sets me apart from the general population.  It is very unique.  It doesn’t work most of the time but it makes up for that  in its total uniqueness.  Who else do you know that has an invisible cell phone, free, and it never rings when you don’t want it to?  I tell you,  I really need to market these.  Lightweight (Can’t tell you’re holding it) it’s see-through so it matches every outfit.  I could call it the Chameleon phone.  I’ll make millions.

13. I’ve come to realize that, when I wake up in the morning:  Wait.  I have to wake up while it’s still morning?  Uh oh.

14. I’ve come to realize that, before I go to sleep at night:  Um… can we define night?

15. I’ve come to realize that, right now I am thinking about :   How lame it is to start a sentence with “I’ve come to realize that” when it ends in “right now I am thinking about:”   Honestly.  It’s dumb.  Do you walk up to your husband and say, I’ve come to realize that right now I’d better go to the bathroom?  You don’t?  I rest my case.

16. I’ve come to realize that, babies are:  Just the beginning of a lifetime of joy. 

17. I’ve come to realize that, I get on Myspace:  Do I hafta?  I mean, I have this blog… that other blog… the one over there and that other one.  Isn’t that enough?  I think so.   I really do.  Yeah.  Yep.  Sure enough.  See, even that sentence says enough is enough.

18. I’ve come to realize that, today I:  Won’t be all I can be.  That happens sometimes.  That’s ok, I’m not in the army.   Well, I am in the Lord’s Army.  But that’s not His slogan so I’m still safe.  “Yes SIR!”

19. I’ve come to realize that, tonight I will :  Work on a Poodle Skirt costume for a friendly acquaintence.  I think it’s going to be cute.  Then, I’ll realize how much I want to work on Andra’s dress.  Then, I’ll pull those gathering threads and it’ll make me think of smocking.  Thinking of smocking will remind me of the new voile I bought to smock so…. I’ll want some needles.  Getting the needles and floss will make me think of needles and haystacks which will remind me of jumping on haystacks as a kid.  I’ll remember how thirsty I got.  I’ll want some milk.  And chances are… if I drink some milk… I’ll want a cookie to go with it. 

20. I’ve come to realize that, tomorrow I will :  Remember why they coined the acronymn, TGIF.  Thank God It’s Friday is not an irreverent and flippant comment for the masses to celebrate the last day of the work week.  No.  That is an abuse of a beautiful shout of thanksgiving and joy that I have every week when I realize that it is Friday, my husband is not thirty miles away interacting with radars and computer boards but instead is sitting in my recliner and snuggling with his children.  It’s a reminder that he is home, with his family, all day, for the next three days.  TGIF!

21. I’ve come to realize that, I really want to :  Stop answering these questions.  I’m getting bored.  I think I’ll go do something more fascinating like measuring the amount of toe jam I find between my toes or counting the number of times my back door opens and closes in a five minute period.  Yeah.  Now that’s the life!
     

Getting It All Done~

Frustation.  There are many causes but one is sure to drive me to it faster than anything.  Clutter, disorder, uncleanliness.  Pick one, any one, and my blood pressure rises regardless of whether I actually notice it.  It’s funny, after many years of marriage, I have learned to tune out the sight of things that annoy me but I can’t tune out their effect on me.  Tonight I was especially unsettled.  Eventually, I pinpointed the problem and decided to ignore my heart and lungs and DO something about it.

Ten minutes into my pick up job and I was winded, heart racing, and confused.  Usually, no matter how bad the room is, ten minutes is more than enough to have a clean and cheerful room.  I spent twenty minutes and it’s still a contender for disaster movie of the year.  I scratched my head, grabbed my laptop, and sat down.  I looked around the room and tried to ascertain the real cause of my discomfort and disorder.  The answer was so simple I almost laughed.

Then I started thinking.  I frequent two message boards and occasionally visit two or three others.  At any given time you can find a post that originated within the past week on one of those boards about how we “get it all done”.  I don’t like those posts.  They bother me.  You see, if you answer the question forthrightly, you sound like an arrogant prig.  If you admit to struggling to accomplish your daily tasks, you leave others with a negative impression of home schooling, large families, or home businesses and similar things.  Not exactly what you  had in mind.  If you strive to show a balance.  Show that there are days when it seems like nothing got accomplished but that there are just as many highly productive days, you appear to be a wishy washy mealy mouthed Melanie Wilkes with no backbone. 

So, no matter how much you desire to be transparent enough to help someone, you know that whatever the truthful answer for you, it won’t be acceptable.  You’ll be called to defend it on some score, and let’s face it.  That gets really old sometimes.

What does this have to do with tonight?  Well… I’m glad you asked.  You see, I was sitting in the recliner, gasping for breath and rubbing my chest, my eyes crossed trying to figure out why a quick job wasn’t quick.  I could see taking 20 minutes to do a job that usually didn’t take more than ten when you’re ill.  But twenty minutes to do a job and you can’t tell a difference was made?  That’s bad.

As I pondered the great meaning of life (isn’t housework what that is all about?) I suddenly felt foolish.  I knew why the room was still a perfect set for a crime scene on Monk.  It’s the same reason why some people can accomplish double what others can and has nothing to do with natural ability.

You see, when I first got married, I was an inept perfectionist.  I remember cleanign my room as a girl.  Mom and dad would tell me to clean it and I’d go in and start with the drawers.  Then the closet shelves.  Then I’d do under the bed, in the cabinet, all my shelves.. I’d work and work until there was a huge pile in the center of my bed.  It took triple the time of just doing what mom and dad required but I never could.  The room felt dirty if I knew my socks were jumbled with my underwear.  They needed to be in separate piles or I couldn’t honestly say the room was clean.  Pathetic, I know.

So when I got married, imagine my frustration when I realized that I couldn’t clean house that way.  I mean, you can’t empty all the kitchen cupboards daily and then scrub and organize them and put everything back before you do the dishes!  Some days the dishes would sit while I avoided them.  I didn’t understand what my problem was back then… I do now.  Once I finally got past that, I just knew housecleaning/keeping would be a fast brisk breeze.

Ha.

It took a while but my next revelation was stuff.  Most of us have too much of it.  Combining two households with all the showers that come with a marriage meant an abunance of stuff.  We purged.  For YEARS we purged.  We received lots of hand-me-downs.  It took me a while to realize that no matter how great something is, it isn’t great for YOU if it’s a burden to take care of.

If it takes longer than 10 minutes to straighten any room or if your closets are a pile of jumbled stuff, you probably have too much stuff for your space.  Do you need six 13×9″ pans?  Do you use four angel food cake pans?  (I own six or seven and use them all when I use them)  How about clothes?  You don’t wear four sizes at once… if you really do fluctuate that much between sizes, how about choosing every other size?  Get rid of the size 8’s keep the 10’s get rid of the 12’s and keep the 14’s.  At least do it until your body chooses a size.  Do you have craft supplies that you’ll never use?  How about craft suppies that you won’t use for a LONG time?  What about just too much of the same thing?  Do you need all of your yarn?  What if you got rid of those 20 skeins that you really don’t like.  You don’t have to knit them up just because you have them.  Make room for skeins you do like!  The same goes for fabric, patterns, paint colors, scrapbook stuff… the list is endless.  

I could go on almost forever.  Stuff takes up room, lack of space makes the care and keeping of a house difficult, and so often it’s all things we don’t want/need anyway.  Do you have sentimental knicknacks that you don’t like but someone dear gave to you?  Take a picture of it, of you with it, and give the gimcrack to someone who really wants it.  In today’s scrapbooking society, we can take SHELVES of “things” and put them on just a few pretty pages journaled with why they were important to us.

The next move I made was learning to put things where I’ll replace them.   If my mail was always in one drawer, I quit trying to keep it in a carefully filed system.  I simply cleared the drawer and made cleaning it out a bi-weekly event.  It wasn’t worth fighting my own natural inclination.  I didn’t have time to retrain myself in a “system”.  Maybe some day, not then.  The same was true of where I stored the broom, the fabric, the shoes, the jackets… Things needed to be put where I would actually put them away.  It may be true that if the spatula belongs in the garage, on the left of the dryer, top shelf, behind the untouched laundry soap that I should always put it there regardless of the inconvenience.  This may be very true.  However, I know me.  I won’t put it back there.  I will, however, stick it in a crock on the corner of the counter.  Guess where the spatula is stored?

I’ll never forget a particular time we cleaned up for unexpected company.  Friends called and asked if they could come over.  Of course, we said yes.  They live five minutes away and have several children so it took at least five minutes to load them up.  We called the kids in and said, “Get a move on!”  They did.  We did.  And in less than ten minutes, the house was clean.  We were actually sitting around waiting for our friends to get here.  For years before that, if someone called and the house was a mess, we were still frantically throwing things in closets, unseen rooms, and in laundry baskets with a blanket on top when the knock came on the door. 

What was the difference? 

1.  We had less stuff to mess with.  Fewer clothes, toys, books,- well, ok so not books- and other things to put away in the first place.
2. We had a place for all that stuff to go!
3. Because of one and two, it was done regularly so most things were put away already. 

Everyone just put away what they were working on when the call came, a few stray things that we didn’t notice, washed the few dirty dishes or filled a sink for them to soak, and voila.  Done.  It made such a huge difference in our lives.  Mom could get the flu and the whole house didnt’ fall apart. 

So what does this all have to do with getting it all done?  What does it have to do with the posts about how we can accomplish everything as wives, mothers, and teachers of our children?  Everything.  And nothing.  Depending on a few things.

First, what is everything?  I’ve heard the definitions… “nutritious meals, clean house, nice wardrobe, completed school, hobbies, field trips…”  Well the problem is, that you can’t define those things generically.  One person’s idea of “nutritious meals” is everything baked from scratch from organically grown (and hand milled) foods.  It is growing most of your own food and eating it year round.  To others, nutritious meals means you didn’t make it from a box.  There is a vast difference between dinner with home baked home ground bread and dinner with healthy bread baked for you and purchased at the store.  A difference of at least an hour of time.  One isn’t necessarily better or worse than the other but it is DIFFERENT and means a usage of time.

The fact is, no one does it “all” in one day.  The Proverbs 31 heroine didn’t do everything she did in a 24 hour period.  One day I might do all the running around type things that seem impossible on days when I’m busy making dresses and diagramming sentences.  You can’t look at each day and expect that everything that can be done will be done on that day.  It won’t work.  No one can and no one does do “it all” (however you define that) every day.

What CAN happen is that you can accomplish more with what you do when you learn to make your movements “second nature”.  I firmly believe this is the difference between high productivity and low.  I can sew three times what most people can in the same amount of time because I don’t have to think about my movements.  They’re second nature.  I know instinctively that I need to pick up the collar next, gather the sleeve, attach the cuff… I don’t have to look at instructions or debate when to do what on 90% of all of my sewing.  The same is true of cooking.  I don’t have to pause to read a recipe.  I just do it.  I’ve made these things such a part of who I am and what I do that I dont’ have to think about them.  The same is true of house cleaning, educating the children… Some parts of life need to be on auto-pilot. 

So… if you’re trying to get more done in a day, do a few things.

1.  Get rid of stuff.  Lots of stuff.  Make stuff your enemy.  Keep what you need, all of what you love, much of what you like, but kill everything tht is just “there”.
2. Give your stuff a home.  It needs a place to call its own.  Make sure the home is in a neighborhood you enjoy.  (In other words, don’t move your favorite things across town just because it’s ‘nice’ over there.  Put your stuff in homes where you can “visit” them regularly and then send them home.  If you move them too far away, you might find that your stuff never goes back home.
3. Repetition.  Do whatever you do, over and over and over until you can do it in your sleep.  Take one thing at a time and just do it every day, many times, until you don’t have to think of the steps.  Then move to the next.  Make every activity that you do often, so familiar that it becomes second nature.

Oh… and in case you were curious… my living room was evidenc of all three things.  I have too much stuff.  I haven’t been purging like usual because I’ve been living in a chair.  You forget to keep up routines like that.  Once I purge my life of extraneous stuff, I’ll lose 1/8-1/4 of the mess in this room.

Second, because of my chair boundness, I also have stuff in here that I do want to keep… but it doesn’t have a home in here.  My smocking supplies don’t belong in the living room.  They belong in the garage.  However, I can’t store them out there because I can’t go get them everytime I need them.  So, they need a home in my living room for the time being.  Now that I know this, I can do something about it.

And finally, once my homes are set up (and I already have done half of it) I need to make USING those homes “second nature”.  I’m already getting so much more done (As you can see from my Eclectivity blog) just because I adjusted my home to accomodate my illness.

You can accomplish so much more than you think you can when you are efficient with the time and space you own.

Make everything second nature.

Be Still…

One can’t help but think this is what the Lord is doing in my life.  Stillness.  I’m getting very good at it… and very bad.  I’ll go days without over exerting myself and then WHAM.  I blow it.  This weekend was one of those WHAMMY times.  Friday, I went to Wal-Mart.  My first trip in weeks.  How can you go weeks without going to Wal-Mart?  I did.  I bought me new clothes (and they’re pants!) and a refill in cosmetics (I’ve got to do something to feel less frumpy) and some cotton yarn to practice on little crocheted hats.  (I’ll buy the good stuff later)

By the time I arrived home, I was doing very poorly.  I was still… and reminded second by second who is God!

Yesterday afternoon, I decided to tear strips for Andra’s Birthday Dress.  I didn’t think it’d be very taxing and then I’d have a sense of accomplishment.  I was tired by the time I was done.  Not as exhausted as the day before, just tired.  I wanted to rest but we needed to go to Little Hannah’s for a gift for little Euphemia for her baptism today.  So… off we went, me blissfully unaware that I was over doing it.  Again.  Twenty minutes in Little Hannah’s and I was beat.  I practically crawled to the car leaving Kevin with the sticker shock of my bill.  (A dress for Lorna, the gift, a Christmas gift for Lorna, a Christmas gift for Ethan, a card…)

I came home and rested.  I tried not to move if I could avoid it.  I needed, most desperately, to feel normal later.  We had Hungarian Coffee Cake to make for Euphemia’s Baptism today.  At seven-thirty p.m., Kevin started melting butter, warming milk, and Braelyn started the yeast.  I went into the kitchen and mixed it together with all the flour.  Oh boy.  My heart raced, fluttered, and thudded.  It felt like it was folding over on itself.  I was frustrated.  I plopped the mess in the mixing bowl and sulked in my chair.

An hour later, I tried to help dip the circles in butter and then cinnamon and sugar.  I couldn’t do it.  By the third one, my arm was aching.  Kaylene and her friend Natalie helped while I sulked.  Ok, so I hid it.  I don’t want my children learning the fine art of immaturity from me.  But the truth is, I sulked.  I’m trired of doing nothing.  I’m tired of missing out on all of the fun things that there are to do. 

Today, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself.  While the rest of my family and my church is celebrating in the baptism of my first grandchild, I am home, alone, AGAIN, because I can’t climb stairs.  I am barred from my favorite activities because my heart (or some unknown part of my body if the doctors are wrong) has betrayed me.  How dramatic that sounds!  It doesn’t feel dramatic.  It feels depressing.

Depressing.  That is something that has surprised me.  I would have assumed that after seven and a half weeks in a chair, I would have entered into some kind of mild depression.  If for no other reason, because I’m so inactive!  Cabin fever!  But I’m not.  I don’t like it… I complain sometimes, but I don’t have any kind of despondency or melancholy.  I just want it over so I can get back to life as normal.  But I wonder… how long before my mental attitude does succomb?  Is it inevitable or is my natural acceptance of how life is enough to protect me?  I don’t know.  Prayerfully the Lord will keep me from any disappointments.

In the meantime, it’s a reminder.  I have a wonderful opportunity that so many women dream of.  I have the ability to simiply sit at Jesus’ feet.  How odd that my normal Mary self morphed into a Martha the moment that Maryness wasn’t an option.  I love to study, learn, read the Word and infuse my life with it.  I find it interesting though, when this is an opportunity handed to me on a silver platter, I balk and want to “do”.  I want busyness.  I want what I can’t have.  Is it possible that my contentment is only the appearance of it?  Is it possible that I’m only content because I had what I wanted and now that I don’t I’m learning just how discontent I truly am at heart?

Sigh.  I probably am.  I think I need another infusion of Paul.  If anyone understands contentment and how one grows into a true heart of contentment, it is that Apostle of old.   Praise the Lord for open eyes… even if I did really like them shut.

Scattered~

Welcome to my hall closet.  Five shelves each four feet wide at least.  (almost 5)  It’s somewhat shallow but very efficient.  I love it.  We keep all kinds of stuff in that closet.  Let me think…

• Towels
• Toilet paper
• Paper Towels
• Cleaning supplies
• Q-tips
• First aid stuff
• Spare Razors
• Spare Toothbrushes
• Perm Rods
• Hair clippers
• Home repair stuff like nails, screws, drywall patch stuff and tools, touch up paint, etc.
• Shoes.  The bottom two shelves hold family shoes.

As you can imagine, the closet holds a lot.  And even then, it’s never full to capacity.  I like that.  I hate packed shelves or closets.  I like a place for the eye to rest. 

Last night, I noticed that the freshly washed and folded towels were tossed on the floor of the closet on top of the smelly shoes.  Now I don’t know about you, but I like my towels fresh and CLEAN smelling.  I don’t like to dry my face with a towel that smells like stinky feet.  I glanced at the shelves and they looked packed.  That was odd.  They’re never packed.  I didn’t let myself get worked up about it.  I was whipped from trying to remove extraneous totes and stuff from the bookshelf. 

I went in there this morning and again, it looked packed.  Then I REALLY looked.  It was deceiving.  My “Packed” closet was just disorderly.  I originally wasn’t sure I could make everything fit again but now I just laughed at myself.  What seemed to be an impossible thing took me 5 minutes.

I cleared one shelf  by moving the shoes down.  Somehow they’d spread to three shelves scattered hither and thither.  I dusted off the shelf and moved the towels to their correct shelf.  That was easy enough.  Then I put the other things in proper order.  Toilet paper, Q-tips, razors, First aid, and the like all ended up on the right shelf.  The cleaning supplies and home repair were put on another shelf and I shoved some things to the side.

I didn’t make the closet perfect.  If I was going to do a perfect job, I would have sorted shoes and tossed those that are too small or rarely worn.  I would have set each pair perfectly side by side and my personal sense of asthetics would have been appeased.  I knew I probably didn’t have time for that so I chose to ignore the incompleteness of it all.  I would have cleared the top shelf, probably tossed half of it, put a few things away that don’t even belong in that closet and basically been in heaven.  I didn’t.  I have two “perfect” shelves and 3 or 4 (if you count the floor) “acceptable” shelves.  It’s what I have to do at this stage of my life.  I can worry about perfect later.  Maybe even later today or tomorrow.  I can do one little thing until it’s “right”.

The interesting thing is that this got me thinking.  Don’t we do this often with life in general?  Our lives are like my closet.  We have lots of room to put things but sometimes we let them scatter about so that there isn’t room for anything else.  Some things are important essentials (toilet paper, tooth brushes, and first aid) while other things are just nice (constant fresh towels rather than using the same one for a week) while others are pure frivolity (perm rods etc).

How we spend time is similar.  Some things are essential  (eating, sleeping, child rearing, studying the Word), some are nice (reading books, fellowship, extra curricular activities), and others are pure frivolity (hobbies, some leisure time etc).  If we let ourselves scatter everything throughout our lives with no rhyme or reason to our madness.  In doing so, we lose so much time that other important (and often essential) things are left to chance.  If they can get shoved on the shelf, we’ll do it but often we see a full closet and think, “I don’t have time for that.”

Throughout the years that I’ve been married, I’ve discovered that time truly does seem limitless when I’m diligent with how I spend it.  If I budget it wisely, it seems like anytime I need it, I have it.  If I just spend as I go, living “paycheck to paycheck” with my time, I tend to run out before “payday”.

The interesting paradox is that I also do not handle a rigid time budget.  Just as with my cashflow, I don’t function well when I have to account for every penny/second.  I need the freedom that comes with a general routine but I need to stick to my routines.  

I guess I need to remember that just as closets get out of order from time to time so does the closet of my life.  I have to reorganize and clean it up periodically to make room for everything I want to do.

And the Winner Is… (drum roll please)

The Shop Keeper’s Tale

 Submitted by “Lynn”.  Congratulations Lynn!  Please email me at Chautona@hearthkeepers.com and I’ll send you your eBay gift certificate!

I had a terrible time deciding as the contest was going on so at the end I just went through the list and picked my favorites… fast.  Anythign that grabbed me at all, I grabbed.  I got six that way.  Then I went through again twice and ended up with more than ten so I had to cut the list.  My final “short list” was

Once Upon a Bookstore
The Shopkeeper’s Impression
Robert’s Choice
Through a Shopkeeper’s Eyes
The (A) Cherished Gift
The Shopkeeper’s Tale
Robert’s Reward
Once Upon a Choice
Grimstead’s Treasure
Handle(ed) with Care

After this, I allowed my board to vote to see if they could see a reason for a title that I’d missed.  However, they chose between my favorite two names…

Grimstead’s Treasure and The Shopkeeper’s Tale.  I wanted some way to combine these.  The clarity and timelessness of Shopkeeper’s Tale with the more exciting “shelf appeal” of Grimstead’s treasure would be perfect! 

One of the board members (who didn’t participate in the contest….silly woman) came up with “Treasure on the Shelf”

That’s the PERFECT name for the book so while The Shopkeeper’s Tale won the contest, the title of this book is, Treasure on the Shelf.

I can’t wait to have my next contest on cover art!

Speaking of “Sock Baskets”

What kind of “socks” are you keeping around your “basket”?  It’s a weird question, I grant you but if you read my last blog, it should make sense.  I realized as I sifted through the huge basket that there are lots of interesting things in there.

Holely Socks-  Do we have worthless things laying around our homes or lives that should be purged?

Sole Mates-  How many things do we  have that can’t be completed for some reason or another? 

Short Soxed- Too small socks.  Is our life full of things that won’t quite cut the mustard?  Maybe someone else would benefit.

We have a lot of plain white socks… some fun ones, and a few “fancy ones”.

What made the biggest impact on me though, was when I pulled out things like…

• Underwear
• Tights (why do already matched “socks” need to be in with non matched ones?)
• Belts
• Shirts
• Toys
• Blanket
• Potholder

I couldn’t help but draw the further analogy of things in our basket (life) that don’t belong there.  Now, I’ll grant you, the torn socks and the crumpled piece of paper doesn’t really belong in anyone’s life.  We dont’ want garbage in our lives.  However, the other things I found… the pot holder, the underwear, the shirt… these aren’t bad things.  We need them.  most people want them.  However, it doesn’t belong in our sock basket.  Just as many good things don’t always belong in our lives.  Just because they belong there, doesn’t mean they’re bad.  It just means that our life isn’t the right home for them.  Kind of like my sock basket isn’t the right home for Lorna’s doll.  It’s cute… but it doesn’t belong there.

Hmm…

What’s Your Basket?

I folded clothes today.  That was a big deal because I stood there the whole time.  As I folded, I studiously avoided the monster sock basket.  We have a HUGE one.  I hate it.  I have always hated it.  Somehow, however, we’ve always managed to have one.  Why is this?  I never had one when I was little.  Then again, it was only the three of us and it was easy to tell whose socks weren’t paired.  Around here, if all of us just have one, it’s enough for a small basket!

But, I realized today, that right now, there is no excuse for a full sock basket.  I can fold and match socks.  I may not be able to carry laundry to the washer, do the switches, or bring it all back inside but I can match socks.  Even on a bad day, I can match socks.  So why don’t I?

This, of course, got my mind thinking about other areas of my life.  What else CAN I do that I avoid doing because it’s too inconvenient or boring?  Buy pajamas?  Make menus? Sort junk drawers?  Efficiently utilize space in this house? 

 Why is it that we will settle for the mediocre when excellence is not difficult to achieve?  So much of our life has slowly settled into a comfortable way of living.  We have little clutter.  Dejunking doesn’t take long because there isn’t much TO dejunk.  Cleaning doesn’t take long because there isn’t much clutter and we keep it up consistently.  Bills stay paid because I found a way to make sure it happened even if I forgot.  Debt is not an issue anymore because we learned to save!  (What an amazing concept!)  Our life runs fairly smoothly but these little rough edges need smoothing!   There will always be something that can be improved.  I need to quit thinkng of life as a “to do list” that can be completed once and for all.

So, I’m off.  I have a sock basket to empty.  But I’m curious, before I go, what is your “basket”?

Much Ado…

About nosomething?

My heart valves are working.  This is good.  I’m very glad to hear it.  They know something isn’t right with my  heart and it appears to be the blood flow.  Now they have to prove it so they’re doing a “pharma” stress test AND some kind of “imaging” to see everything move through the heart.  Oh joy.

However he didn’t say I couldn’t get out of my chair this time.  I confess, I didn’t ask.  However, since we know the structural part of the heart is working, I’ve decided to do limited stuff around the house.  Nothing major.  A few minutes here and there at the sewing machine, some light rearranging…. oh and I went grocery shopping.  I thought I’d really like it.  I haven’t done it for over six weeks.  I still didn’t like it but it wasn’t quite as distasteful as usual.

When I got home, Challice and I sorted through 16-20 totes.  We emptied at LEAST four.  Completely removed em from our presence.  It feels great.  (Poor Cathe has two big boxes of fabric scraps to contend with now…)

I’m just goign to keep busy while resting a lot in between.   I have to do something.  This sitting here can’t be good for the rest of my body even if it’s good/semi-good for my heart.  I’m going for a healthy balance.  Yeah.  That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.