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Blog Rest? Nope!

Heart Tree

I have to say that I truly need a rest from writing in my blog.  There just never seems to be enough hours in the day to type, edit, and publish.

Unfortunately that idea doesn’t seem to connect with any other part of my brain.  It’s on overload most mornings when I wake up – just raring to go!

On a regular basis now I literally grab my phone on the nightstand beside the bed to type notes.  It’s sometimes too early when I wake up and have thoughts roar through my head that I can’t be trusted to remember them by the time I get to the kitchen table with coffee, pen and paper.  Once my brain has started the download I have to be ready to write down things that I pondered in my dreams or while simply lying awake at 4:30 a.m.

Anxiety usually favors the early hours to startle me awake physically and it usually gets me thinking about stuff I don’t care to think about, so writing helps.  But it’s a chore and a joy and sometimes something wonderful comes out of it.

I clearly heard his alarm, but I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.  Just maybe I could…. but no.

My thoughts were heading down hopeless paths of regret, guilt and sadness simultaneously so I wrote him a letter.  It helped me and later he read it and I think he was good with it too.

I ask a lot from the people I love.  Forgiveness, support, understanding, compassion, and on and on the list goes.

He gives it, unconditionally.

He loves me deeply and never out of pity or obligation.

He understands my pains and my messiness.

He understands my need for a lifting of the burdens from my shoulders.

He reaches into my space – invading whatever emotion I’m holding there – and loves me.

It’s not easy.  I’m feeling unlovable quite often lately.

Some days I feel so distant and weak that I simply can’t lift my hand to reach out to him.

It comes in waves, regardless of my declaration that “today will be better.”

I convey to him that I need to hear …

“We can make it.”  “I love you.”  “I know you’re struggling.”  “I know you’re trying.”

Lately I apologize as often as I tell him I love him and I rely on him to hold me together when it’s easier to fall apart.

We won’t give up.

That’s our LOVE song…we won’t give up.

I’m so thankful for this man that I met at age 15 – That was 32 years ago but it was like yesterday…

I heard a song the other day that said –

“When does a scar become a tattoo?”

“When does the sky turn back to blue?”

“When does this broken heart that I’m holding beat on it’s own?”

I imagine those scars are healing, whether I can see it happening or not.

And I know the sky is blue, even when the days are cloudy and grey.

And that broken heart?

Well, he holds me and loves me and his heart beats for two.

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Posted by on December 16, 2013 in Life, in general

 

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Five Minute Friday – Remember

Rothenburg Volksmarch

Volksmarching Group

Rothenburg ob der Tauber

In a thousand ways I remember.

It’s one of the hardest words I deal with in my life.  It’s painful, and it’s full of loss, and it’s joy.

This morning it’s full of tears – streaming down my face onto this notebook of mine as I deal with constant reminders of things I’ll never forget.

Someone once explained that quite possibly significant memories are marked in your brain by the outpouring of adrenaline that occurs at an event.

I’m at no loss in the adrenaline department.

Once it was loss – of a Mother – when none of us saw it coming.  I remember dropping to the floor in disbelief and crying out.

Once it was the loss – of a friend – who struggled for years against cancer.  I remember the sorrow of her passing and the sweetness of her walk with the LORD.

I remember those crazy days of childbirth and the complete exhilaration and joy.

I remember the loss of the ones who have chosen to walk out of my life leaving me with empty arms.

I remember the excitement of buying our first house and all the fun times we had with my children there in those years.

I remember Germany, and the vivid and plentiful memories.  I feel like we lived there yesterday and not 12 years ago.

Most of all, I know that when I forget things, and I feel like I’m losing some precious memories these days… that there are a thousand people who will never let me forget … and that brings hope and joy.  I’m not the only one who remembers …

Deep, Deep Joy. 

*******

Curious about Five Minute Friday?  It’s like a Flashmob for writers.

A bunch of us, with a one-word prompt, write fearlessly for FIVE minutes and link up together. Join us!

http://lisajobaker.com/

 

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Five Minute Friday – Rest

hiking boots

Ahhh, the illusive idea of rest. I have no idea what that is until I get some.

For almost 5 years now I’ve had no consistent sleep at night. No, I don’t have any infants or toddlers around to blame this on. I’m also not able to say its “the change.” I’m in between those stages of life…I’m stuck in the middle.

I don’t sleep well because my stinking neck hurts and sometimes that wreaks enough havoc…but I get other pains too. I have several areas in my back that cause problems – mainly because I’ve don’t have much of any inward or outward curve to my spine. What doesn’t hurt? My lower back – which is ironic because I ruptured a disc there over 10 years ago.

Rest. It comes in small doses.

It resembles the peace that surpasses all understanding.

Rest came yesterday when I hiked and I sat down on my favorite rock. My rest was in the sun, the breeze, and the fresh air.

Rest – it arrived when the girls got home safely yesterday from a late night school function.

Rest – it’s that unexpected nap I occasionally get that truly refreshes me.

Rest, for me, comes and goes fleetingly – but never without a deep sigh and some serious thankfulness.

It’s like God touches my head and sends this incredible peace straight through my muscles, my bones, and my soul…and makes for a little bubbling happen in the wellspring of my life.

{Way Down Deep} in my soul where only He can reach.

Psalm 62:1

My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.

He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

 
 

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Writer, Revised

writing with a pen

{I love to write}

 I discovered this WAY beyond my school years. I attempted journaling and some free-floating penning exercises about 11 years ago. I have even received a book on journal writing and a pen and a look from my sweet Christian sister that said – “Write.” She knew me inside-out after 3 years of living overseas as military spouses.  She knew it was something I needed to do, even if it was only for me to be able to “hear” myself amongst the noise and chaos of my life.

I dove headlong into books during our time in Germany. I read so much, that I started going through the Fiction section alphabetically and reading everything they had by each author. Truly, this voracious reading was something new to me.  I started to find a few authors that would eventually reflect so many similarities in my own life that I felt like they wrote like I spoke.  Maybe their characters thought or acted just like me.  Maybe the setting was familiar.  “I know these places, I’ve lived here, These are my people.”  It never occurred to me to write.  For myself, or for others.

This week, I felt disappointment and defeat in writing. On paper, on a computer or on a blog.  I felt I had no purpose or something like that …  I was inching towards this pit somewhere in January, but I stepped fully into the earthen darkness of it this week.  I could smell the dirt and I didn’t like it.

Last Fall, I was encouraged to write and to use a blog and join in with the Five Minute Friday community. I started doing that very thing, right here, last September. I felt freedom. It felt like someone untied the tethers of a hot air balloon and I was ascending quickly to join in on a journey that so many have chosen before me.  It was kind of a rush, actually.

The first time I hit “Publish” I realized that I had longed for the words in my mind to tumble off my tongue and make their way onto paper. I long to finish, click publish, and let go of something that is meant for someone else. A gift.

Writing has become a satisfaction that I can only compare to quilting.  It can be like a finishing a quilt – I love it – I want to speed up time to the point where I get to toss it over a bed, hang it on a wall, or give it to a friend.

Words, stories and writing are different from quilting though – they need a little more patience. A little more nit-picking – but I’m still just as anxious to share them.

I write because {I} love to write.

I want life to be all straight and aligned and logical, but it’s not.

I’d like this love of writing to be a banner of confidence in myself, but it’s not.

I’m not all straight and logical anymore.  My life is messy, funny, painful, hap-hazard, and ALL OVER THE PLACE.  I’m just figuring that out and trying to embrace that – or claw my fingernails in and hold on for the ride.

I occasionally make sense of life – but most days I’m clueless and left amazed by the sheer chaos that I have been oblivious to for so long.

I WANT to live without SpellCheck.

I WANT to spill my guts out on the page.

I WANT someone to “get it” and feel less alone because I’ve spit out a life issue and shared my heart …

I WANT someone to hear …   {You Are Not Alone}

I’m a Writer, revised – Changed, amended, shifting, adjusting and perhaps edited and/or strengthened.

For {God’s} glory and because {I} love to write.

**Many thanks to my encourager who sent me in the direction of this site and if you have any desire to write, or need some purpose or redirection in your writing, I suggest you read the E-book “The Writer’s Manifesto”  http://goinswriter.com/writers-manifesto/

*Call it a ladder for climbing out of the pit …

*Call it a hand reaching in to pull you out …

*Or maybe, it’s the newly painted trail marker that makes it clear how to get on a better path – For being a writer, or whatever else God is directing you to be… 

trail marker

 
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Posted by on February 23, 2013 in Life, in general, Writing

 

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Five Minute Friday – Dive

while-ii

It’s Five Minute Friday!  It’s a chance to write for five minutes flat – Unscripted.  Unedited.  Real.  Just five minutes of focused writing with our “Flashmob of Writers” and it happens here:  www.lisajobaker.com

I run quickly through the ocean’s edge to make a good dive past the breakers.  It’s about timing, and not getting tossed and tumbled.

I spent quite a bit of time strolling the foamy edge watching the waves ebb and flow in an infinite dance.  I just couldn’t decide what to do – stay on the shore and soak up the sun?  Or let go and dive in?

I choose to dive… it’s in my nature.  Head first so I can be where the waves gently swell and I can wade and float and feel the pull of the ocean.  Something so much larger and more powerful than me that I let go and let it move me.  No control, just enjoyment felt fully down to my soul.

It’s hard to find that balance in life, to live it to the fullest.  I talk, but I want to sing and sign… I walk with pain daily, but I long to dance.  I long to dive into life and get past the mess where I know I’ll find love and joy and freedom and life abundant.

John 10:10  I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full

 

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Perfectly Weary

Dry lungs.  That’s how best I can describe them.  Deprived of oxygen or just plain lazy would also be fitting.  Dizziness, well, more like uncontrolled spinning, occurs in my head quite frequently.  Tired, in pain, barely breathing and somehow I’m getting the laundry done.  Somehow I’ll manage to cook dinner – I think.

Tea is steeping, Christmas music is playing and for the first time in 4 days it is quiet.  It feels like a major accomplishment to get to this moment today – a time to actually think and concentrate.  A time to do a few chores, and a take a few moments to collect myself and renew slightly before something or someone beckons me.

A slight reprieve, badly needed.  A greater reprieve, I pray, is one day closer.

I wasn’t always like this.  I remember only too well the days of boundless energy.  Early years of running and playing with complete abandon.  Standing back flips, front walkovers, and long hours of stretching, dancing, and twirling.  I write of those days and time stands still in my head.  I can still feel the pasty, sweaty chalk on my hands and clearly feel the hardwood gym floor under my bare feet.  I can picture all the gymnasiums I’ve ever romped and flipped around in.

The face of the my gym teacher opening the doors for us before school hours was a welcome sight.  Each day I left the house early in the cold and the dark to go practice in the gym.  Later, I proudly wore blistered hands to class, much to the shock of my fellow students.  They didn’t understand how much I loved those early morning workouts.

Pausing, I sip my tea, allowing the pain in my neck and arm to lessen.  Even writing is painful.

I have loved making quilts, mosaics, and all sorts of crafts over the years.  I used to love to clean house, make dinner, do yard work, and chase after kids.  It was all so tiresome, but when the end of the day arrived, I didn’t regret much.  It was accomplished with reckless abandon as well.  Pure energy and drive… perhaps with a little too much perfectionism added in.

Well, the truth is, I had and STILL have way too much perfectionism in my life.  I struggled with a perfectly ordered life and house and now I struggle – with a body that does not fulfill my mind’s idea of how it should function.

In my spiritual life, along the way, I have found the desire to meet God in all things – every situation I was in and with everyone I met.  That used to be so simple because I was looking outward.  Now I find myself desiring to rise above the trappings of my human flesh – above the physical, the mental, and the emotional ideals of perfection, to see where I am in God’s plan.  It’s not easy.  It’s a part of my spiritual journey that is taking longer than I desired, but I can only imagine how wonderful the end results are going to be when God is finished with this part of His plan for my life.

I imagine when I look back upon this physically painful time it will diminish in intensity because of the enormity of what God will have accomplished.  In the meantime, my prayer life is being renewed and scripture is once again at the forefront of my day.  I think He has me right where He wants me, and today, I hope I make Him smile.

Philippians 4:12 & 13

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

Psalm 121:1,2

I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?  My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

 
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Posted by on November 14, 2012 in Life, in general

 

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