Would I be crazy if I said I wanted to run a marathon...or more truthfully finish, even if I'm crawling, a marathon?

I don't enjoy running. I have often said you should really only run if someone is chasing you. I still believe that.

But I have this strange desire to do something really big, and really outside of myself. Something I would need to train for and endure.

I have felt this for a while, but tonight it was an object lesson during bible study...and again the spark.

A quick google just revealed a marathon in a nearby city, the day before Eden's birthday...

Hmmmm?

I'm sitting here, looking at the blank screen, my thoughts all muddled.

Ok, here's the deal. Tomorrow I will get out of bed and make it. I will do my dishes and enjoy my kids and my friend. I will do my biblestudy homework...and I will be kind and gentle with myself.

I will not sit in my dark thoughts, set up camp, and stay. I will not allow brokenness to destroy me.

I think I've been dangling my feet in the pit too long and if I keep sitting here I might just fall in.

So here's to simple steps...

I didn't blog yesterday. :(

It wasn't so much that I didn't want to or couldn't, but my typical blogging moments come when the house is quiet, so I generally put the kids in bed and wax philosophical...

Yesterday was my hubby's birthday and we spent the whole day, as a family, outside. In the 90* weather, swimming and hanging out.

This is probably my favorite way to spend a day, and always results in the best sleep ever.

So after a day in the sun and a yummy summer dinner of hot dogs and chips, Steven and I settled in for some time relaxing and watching tv...and then I fell asleep on the couch.

When I woke up I had a fleeting though about my blog but the cool bedsheets won. So I failed. At the very end...I failed.

This is hard for me. I have not been in a place to speak gently to myself and been far too aware of my shortcomings this week.

I often don't finish things. I hate not finishing things. It brings to mind a lot of things that were said over me in judgment. A lot of hurtful things I took in and allowed to grow and define me.

So I decided I'd still write today. To not just throw in the towel, defeated. I am going to accept my failing but not allow it to make me a failure.

Now four minutes I will be celebrating the birthday of my dear husband.

Actually we celebrated tonight with a lovely date...

I am tired.

Goodnight.

I have a problem.

In my kitchen, on the baker's rack, all filled out and ready to send in, I have a special subscription offer to The Crafter's Book of the Month Club.

This might not seem that bad... but... but...


And seriously, I am so excited about the numbers I filled into the little spaces I can barely contain myself.

It's the very same feeling I get in an office supply store...

Blog a day has been very hard for me. I looked at it as a fun and light challenge and still think it can be... I got excited as I randomly had to fit in moments of profundity...but the reality of my emotional state over the last few weeks has made this a really difficult task.

Truth be told, I am hurting. I am sort of tired of being so darn needy, too. I struggle with the perception of being weak...and I know I am, infinitely, weak. I struggle with feeling like I talk about the loss of my daughter too much. Like I'm kind of a one trick pony...

Last night at church we were talking about what Paul meant when he said we should "work out our salvation with fear and trembling." I wanted to cry. I am working this out still. It still stings to read scripture that says "ask and it will e given" because I did ask...and God said no.

I have talked about this before, but everyday I have to look at the reality and admit, in a very un "Christian PC" way that I have suffered the greatest hurt I can ever imagine at the hand of God. He allowed this. He did not bend His will. This was fulfillment of His plan.

I don't believe He "did" this to Eden, to me, to my husband, my other children... but He still allowed it.

So I have to look at this. In all it's utter ugliness and see it for it's reality... and I look at God. I look at Jesus. And in awe and love and unexplainable trust... I stand and worship. I turn my heart to a deeper and more intimate love.

The grief, though, continues.

Oh how I wish my arms didn't ache so badly every. single. day. That I didn't catch my breath at the sight of a little green baby doll. That I didn't see smiling, exhausted, pregnant women and long to be where they were.

A year ago, I was preparing a home for an infant... Tuesday I was planting rosemary in her memory.

Edit: for part two of my breakdown threeforme.blogspot.com

I don't even know where to begin... I'm so tired. That good kind, when you know you sacrificed sleep for an experience you'll never forget.

But to properly tell he story I have to start back about four years ago, sitting in my living room with my two children watching Zoom. One of the kids was in New York at a new musical and he was interviewing the cast. They Showed about 15 seconds of a song and I was hooked. I had to see it...

"We're gonna make you Pop-u-lar"

Not being someone who travels to New York for theatre outings often I filed it away for when it might make it out to LA, my home town.

And eventually it did make it's way here. I was thrilled though I wasn't sure I'd actually get to see it. We make a lot of sacrifices to have me stay home with our children and expensive musical tickets don't often make their way into the budget. I knew if we could we'd make a way but still... it wasn't a sure thing.

Step in one of my amazing friends who spoils me so much. She decided we were going for my birthday...last year. But, as tends to happen...lots of life circumstances got in the way. Serious medical stuff with her mom and then Eden's diagnosis just two an a half months after my birthday. Suddenly focus changed and our date for a play got lost.

Yet it was always there. I wanted to see it so badly. I actually yearned to see it.

I was given an invitation to see it during my pregnancy and I was so thrilled. In the midst of such a difficult time I was being given this amazing gift. A fulfillment of a dream.

Through a comedy of errors we made it to the theatre too late to be seated and there we were. Outside, tickets in hand, and still no show. Heartbreak.

The weekend Eden was born, the one day she fully lived. Not the day she was born, and not the day she died, but the one day she simply lived a large group of my friends did go see it. Seeing it typed out like that makes them look insensitive... they weren't. It was just coincidence that their tickets coincided with such a truly magical day. But still, it was happening right next to me. Again.

Last month I almost made it. Discount tickets. All my friends. But it wasn't to be. Our budget just didn't allow it. My friends went again and I was happy to have them go, even if a little envious. No bitterness but joy for them.

And then last night... I can barely type for the excitement of it...

Last night the friend who originally wanted to take me did. She spoiled me for two birthdays, and a rough year. To say she spoiled me somehow cheapens what last night actually was...

From dinner at The Bowery and one of he best burger I've ever had, to dessert after the show, I was spoiled.

The best part though, the amazing part, was the dream fulfilled. Of holding hope for something for over four years and finally having it happen. I wonder how many other dreams were being realized last night. The kid who'd never been to theatre before, the fan who'd seen it one hundred times... so many stories.

I cried. I cried from the sheer excitement. I cried for the wonder of the show it's self. I cried for the message... Yep, I cried.

So, I am sitting in TGIFriday's, blogging on my friend's phone ... but now my dessert is here...more tomorrow...

I'm tired tonight...but I'm really excited to report that a few good decisions and a little self control and I have lost four pounds.

It's not that four pounds is all the weight I need to loose, or even ten percent, but it's a small reward for doing stuff that isn't easy, but is right.

So maybe when it gets hard to do the right thing elsewhere, or when it's a sacrifice to do it, I'll look at those four little pounds and remember that there is a reason, and eventual pay off.

Tonight? I'm going to talk about my husband...

This summer will mark my 15th wedding anniversary. 15 years is just under half of my life and well over half of what I remember or feel like matters in my life. So, in some respects it's hard to imagine my life before he was a part of it.

Being married isn't always the easiest thing in the world. There is an awful lot of sacrifice that goes into making a partnership of this magnitude. I mean, who wakes up everyday and looks forward to making sure someone else has clean underwear? And there are plenty of times you just have to "take one for the team" like today when I desperately wanted a nap but knew all the work my husband had to do and the kids needed tending.

The other side of those sacrifices is something I'm not even sure I can put into words. It's being loved for every unique and quirky thing you do and are. It's having a very best friend you can turn to or lean on any time and in any circumstance.

This last year has been incredibly painful in so many ways and through it we have grown closer than I ever could have imagined. I have felt love that is so close to the perfect love of Jesus that I almost cry to type it out. I have wept agonizing tears and held Him as he did the same... and with each moment I have fallen ever deeper in love with his Man of God.

In the midst of all of it I think we have laughed more and laughed harder than ever before. The flipside of so much hurt has created so much joy.

I am planning a trip out of town that I am looking forward too but that he won't be able to join me on... and I know I will have so much incredible fun, but my stomach sort of drops when I think about being apart that long.

So there ya go... nothing amazing. Just a big sappy declaration of love

Blah! Nothing comes when I type...

I have a few amusing anecdotes about how much of my life revolves around poop. Cleaning it, discussing it, changing diapers...just a lot of poop.

Or a story about some annoying people who put me in a very angsty place. People who need Jesus but keep dropping their ...well...poop on me.

But mostly I am tired and headachy and feeling like this blog a day thing was a colossal bust.

This has been a strange week, a strange month really, so it's been a strange time to be recording so many of my thoughts.

I've been thinking a lot about my family. I have fallen in love and adore my family even more than I did even a year ago. I love them in a way I never knew was possible.

My oldest son amazes me a little more everyday as I see the great character that is developing in him. Just the other night he and I had a conversation that still brings pride filled tears to my eyes...

I casually mentioned my concerns over his growing fascination with the video games he gets to play at church. It's not that I think it's bad but it seems to occupy so many of his thoughts...when he, all on his own, recognized that it might be best to stop playing the games after his class so that he could spend more time focusing on what he had learned so it didn't slip away.

And then my sweet daughter, who unfairly carries the burden of being our only living daughter. She is sassy and difficult but so amazing. She has a will of iron and a love for her family, her God, and her friends that is unmatched. All she wants is to have relationship. She wants to give her whole heart to every friend. She wants to give gifts and give pieces of her self to everyone she loves. And with each piece what she has to give grows even more.

My youngest son is the one who makes everyone smile. He's the one that, even in mischief, brings a smile to everyone around him. Who stands at the door of his Sunday School class calling for Miss Wobin, knowing she'll show up and he can once again tell her about all the cars. The one who, when told he's loved, replys with "That makes me so happy." He sucks the marrow out of life and thinks just being alive is amazing.

And my daughter who has forever changed me but is now in the arms of Jesus. The privilege of being chosen as her mother can't even be put into words. I will forever be grateful...

Here I sit, a mother to four but my last pregnancy turbulent and my last baby at home in heaven rather than in her bassinet next to my bed.

I ask myself almost everyday if that bassinet is meant to stay empty? If this is the end of my birthing career? I honestly can't imagine what the answer might be. How do I even answer that? Do I use logic? Emotion? And who's logic or emotions do I use? If it's mine, which set of facts or feelings do I turn to?

I think this is contributing to some of my sadness. Just not knowing and not knowing how to know.

So I wait on God. I wait and force myself not to answer. I choose to trust, even when it hurts and it's uncomfortable, I am choosing to trust.

I feel sort of weepy tonight for no particular reason. Nothing terribly definitive that makes me sad...just a sort of background noise of sad.

I used to be terribly unsettled by days like today. I would just slip even deeper into a funk because I felt like what ever I was feeling made me somehow less. Like I wasn't spiritual enough if I just had a rough day and acted "weak".

So silly.

Just the other day I came across this scripture in cleansing stream and it spoke volumes to my heart...because I have plenty of weaknesses in which to glorify God.

I have been reminded a lot lately about the function of Church in my life and the lives of Christians everywhere.

Why do we wake up early every Sunday morning or gather at midweek services? Why forgo a lazy cup of coffee and the funnies? What is the point if not to be challenged and changed?

But what do we do when the worship is full of old dusty hymns that don't particularly resonate, or a rambly preacher with a few too many stories from overseas? Then do we just sit and mark the time until we can sit and have a yummy lunch with family or friends?

No.

We have a responsibility to seek God's voice. To hear the words that He is whispering even in the midst of what seems tired or less than profound.

Relationship is not just about getting. It's about giving as well. I have been more able to hear God speak the closer I draw to him. The more I yearn to hear Him the louder His voice becomes.

So when the songs are old and the speaker is "off" then I am grateful that God is still God, and He is still profound. His love is still amazing. And He still speaks directly to me.

Right now, at this very moment I am sitting in my living room with two very good and amazing friends who are keeping me company on the 6 month anniversary of Eden's death.

It's good to ave friends like this. Girlfriends you know have your back no matter how messy the situation. Friends who you can laugh wit even when everything seems to be crumbling around you.

My friends have been "Jesus with skin on it" throughout the last year like I've never known possible.

So tonight I just want to say Thank you to all of my wonderful friends.

I love you guys. :)

I have decided it's time to buckle down and really lose the extra weight I have been carrying. It's a little harder now to decide this because I so don't want to be one of those women chained to the ever self hating cycle of weight loss and gain.

I don't want to be on a diet, obsessed with how many point are in a quarter cup of M&M's (4 by the way. Just one point shy of a slice of yummy pizza). I just want to be someone who is happy with whatever shape my body is in. Someone more concerned with my inner core than the outer package and how it weighs me down. I just want to make good food choices and let my body take it's natural shape...

But I haven't been making good choices and so much of that *is* a reflection of my inner core. Of rebellion. Of grief. Of busyness. Of bad planning. Of time not well spent... so I am going to try and use the outer tools to help me gain perspective on the inner me.

And I don't want to. I really am thinking I would like a break from all the refinement...until I get alone with my Jesus and realize I see him clearer everyday. That when I am refined I am more accurately able to reflect his image to others. So I am going to welcome the process and allow God to pick me up when I fall down instead of just lying there in the dirt.

I'm going to take care of this person God loves so very much as an offering to Him. I'm going to let Him show me true beauty. I am going to shed the pounds of baggage I know I still carry.

For today's blog check Trusting God's Heart...

I didn't say I'd blog here everyday anyway. :)

Well, my brain is chocked full of cluttered thoughts to share... none of which are fully formed thanks to lots of good sun and adult onset allergies.

Today I was at a local park, an old favorite from my childhood filled with tons and tons of wonderful memories. My kids were playing with friends, celebrating the birthday of one.

A regular afternoon when tragedy struck just a little too close...

A boy was missing. Not one of our boys, but a boy who was at the park with his grandfather and brother. Grandpa turned away for a second and his two and a half year old grandson was just...gone.

People from another birthday party fanned out. A few from our party...looking in trees, trashcans, bathrooms...scouring the adjacent neighborhood. Everyone seemed so calm in the midst of it, but I know that inside I was screaming.

I thought of the call to the parents, the guilt of the grandfather, of the brother who would always know they had been playing together. I made the connection to the boy being about the same age as my youngest boy. Inside I broke. Now I am sure the people with me reading this are thinking "Huh? She didn't seem all that invested actually." But inside I imagined losing another child and I just broke.

Within about 15 minutes the park was surrounded and swarming with police. It's been said before, but police in that city, they just don't mess around.

So we, at the party, gathered together and prayed. What more could we do? We didn't see the boy, there were probably 20-30 people already on foot...so we prayed.

When I spotted a mail truck I went to check with him, grateful for a few seconds alone just walking over. He'd seen nothing. But Thank You Jesus, while I was talking to the mailman, the boy was spotted just wandering a few streets over.

The police picked him up and brought him back to grandpa, we took him some water, and settled into a nice relaxing party. One where our own children were constantly counted and recounted...and told to stay just a little bit closer.

This last week my husband attended a men's bible study that he really enjoyed and found to be very blunt, honest, and revealing. He really enjoyed the time and was relating some of the material to me...there was a big emphasis on certain specific life choices that are very applicable to us and our family. My husband was very grateful that our choices were in line with the speaker and wondered to me how that might have effected the men for whom that wasn't the case.

As we talked my heart kind of sank as I thought of these really remarkable and godly men. I wondered "Would this really be something they would change?" It wasn't something obvious like an addiction to pornography but something more subtle, easily justified in today's society.

This led me to wonder about something else...Do people really come to church every week ready to hear a message that will make them dramatically change how they live? Ready to be challenged a little more each week? Not just encouraged in closer communion with God, but to really go beyond the status quo if their status quo might not measure up?

I don't think I always did. I hope I do now, but I really don't think I always did before. I wanted to "be a good Christian" and I wanted to be "touched by God" but did I expect radical change every.single.week? No...

Even as I type this, I wonder, am I prepared for that now?

I want to be. I want to welcome it and understand that anything God asks he will not only equip and provide for me...but it will be for His ultimate glory and my ultimate good.

Tonight was, and still is, an at home date for my husband. When you have three kids and one income out on the town dates become kind of rare...

So we're at home, making the most of the little bit of time alone we have and we decide to watch the episode of American Idol we DVRed from earlier this evening. It's on on a rare Thursday night due to the big Idol Gives Back benefit from last night.

This week is "inspirational" songs, and really some of the performances from Tuesday were okay...but for me it's hard to find inspiration in just an average song.

So there we are, sitting with Ryan Seacrest who introduces the final eight singing...get this...Shout to the Lord! On national TV. One of my most favorite worship songs ever. On American Idol.

I watched all these kids singing one beautiful song with a beautiful and profound message:


I couldn't help but be heartbroken that for some singing that song all they were singing were words. Empty words. My heart was at once excited to hear My Jesus praised and at the same time broken for those not open to hearing it...

I went to grab the verse this brings to mind and once again was struck by God's heartbreak at our bad choices. Was reminded of how perfectly just and merciful God is and how He hates so much to see us set ourselves up for such pain...

Also, I was humbled by his great love for me...

Luke 19:

37When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
38"Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!"^[b]
"Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

39Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples!"

40"I tell you," he replied, "if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out."

41As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it 42and said, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. 43The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. 44They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you."

I am feeling much better this morning and the situation that had me heart so grieved has been resolved and all is well...

So here is what I have been thinking for a few days now...

When I sat down this week to read the creation story, I can't honestly say I expected some dramatic enlightenment. I mean who hasn't read it? And then I read an account of a friend who was so moved by the vastness of God and my spirit shifted gears...

So I sat and read and my spirit resonated with hers, about the vastness and immensity of God and His creation... and I was humbled that He would love and care so deeply for little insignificant me.

And then I read on, completely unaware that God had even more to say to me in scriptures I've read a thousand times over.

I went on to read Genesis 3, the accounting of The Fall of Man. The eating of the fruit and the casting out of the garden...and hidden in those verses I think I glimpsed a bit of the father heart of God.

I am a parent of four amazing children, only one of which has never required discipline or correction. Only one has never broken my heart. The other three have, at one time or another gone so completely out of the plans I had for them that I had to step in and redirect them in a way that caused us both anguish.

So I read familiar verses:

11 “Who told you that you were naked?” the Lord God asked. “Have you eaten from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat?”

12 The man replied, “It was the woman you gave me who gave me the fruit, and I ate it.”

13 Then the Lord God asked the woman, “What have you done?”

Suddenly I didn't hear the harshness I typically attribute to God in so many of the Old Testament stories... Suddenly I heard what I believe must be the truth of what happened. I heard a broken hearted Father "What have you done?" as His mind realized what consequences would follow and His heart broke at the idea that He would no longer be able to walk in the cool of the day with His children, and He realized the divide that would now come...

What must God have felt, knowing that all of His children would know pain and fear and heartbreak because of this single act?

And I cried. I cried for the beauty and love of God that are met with strife. I cried for the mourning God had to do that day. I cried in gratitude that He was willing to sacrifice so much for us.

I can't blog today... my heart is heavy and I just can't put together a coherent thought for here...

But I'm gonna say this counts.

As a mom, and especially as a homeschooling mom, I feel like I am running behind a lot. There is always laundry that needs to be done. Dishes in the sink. Messes to clean. Diapers to change... there is just always something.

It's particularly hard for me on days like today, when my husband is off work and free to relax in the sun with the kids playing on bikes or with sidewalk chalk...and I am inside trying to tackle any number of my undone chores.

I start to feel a little pathetic. Like the maid.

And I feel really lonely too. I love my family and I want to do the fun parts too...not just the cranky mom parts.

I have tried various systems and tricks and know that some work far better than others and some just require a few days of commitment that I seem to have a hard time finding...but overwhelmingly I feel like I need to just accept that I can't get it all done and that that is, actually, okay.

I don't need a magazine house as long as I truly am doing the very best I can, while keeping my priorities in order. My kids can live with a few extra toys on the floor if it means the difference between time playing with mom or not. My marriage deserves more attention than the bedspread.

This is really difficult for me because I know plenty of women who seem to do it all... but I am not them. It's okay not to be.

So today I put down the duster and went outside and colored on the sidewalk for an hour with all my family. And we laughed and smiled like we haven't been able to do for quite sometime.

And the dishes got done, the dinner got cooked, bedtime prayers were said...and great memories were made.

It's 11:30 and I'm sitting with my friend, Stephanie... in her office...blogging.

I'm sure my husband will laugh if he ever reads this post, already not a fan of the Blog-a-Day concept. He thinks the idea of a challenge to write everyday is wonderful, but just doesn't get why every random thing written each day should be published.


In a way, it makes me smile a little more each day that I continue with the challenge. It's like I reaffirm the message God has been speaking to my heart with every typo. It's just another step on the path of living like me, because really...it doesn't make sense. It's so ridiculous and arbitrary.

Really, the idea that I am taking time out of my all to precious girlfriend hang out time to blog...who does that?

It feel amazing. It feels like taking of training wheels and finally embracing the fact that I can do it.

Next week my kids' report cards are due. It's so funny to have to give my own babies grades. What mother doesn't want to see an entire column of A's? Although if they are honest, most mothers know their little angels are far from perfect.

I remember very clearly filling out their grades last quarter. I remember the anguish I felt knowing how betrayed they would feel if tey saw my disappointment reflected in those marks. As it was I never showed them. They have no idea what letter grade I wrote down.

I want so badly for my kids to think beyond their grades and just embrace the process...to delight when they learn a new skill or interesting fact. I want every day to be an adventure for them.

So I sat down and readied myself to be painful honest in their assessments. I allowed myself to go back to that place last quarter as I looked over where they had been. We were still struggling to find our way only a few short months ago...

I looked at all the books laid before me, reflected on each assignment, on where they had been before and I nearly cried.

I saw the little girl who struggled through her simple one paragraph assignments and now slipped off into her room with a copy of Jane Eyre...the boy who insisted he "just couldn't do long division" but knew just how many brownies each classmate could have out of a batch of twenty...

I saw the journey we had taken together in baby steps... and sometimes crawling... but we were no longer where we had started.

Type... type...words... babble...delete.

This is how the posting is going tonight.


Blathering and trying to make simple thoughts seem important. Wanting to pour out my jumbled thoughts and give the appearance of connecting to them a little more than I do.

I want to reach deep and reveal a piece of myself... but I keep coming up short.

The truth is, I'm kinda not feeling it tonight. I'm not feeling bad, or sad,or cranky, or angry... nothing negative at all. Actually, I'm just not feeling much of anything beyond "normal".

I just started to say my day was average, and it was, but it occurs to me my average days are filled with a lot of great stuff. Laughter, silliness, Jesus, friends, my kids(kid drama is even sweet in it's way), some great conversation with my wonderful husband.

There were some lame spots too... too many chores left undone, cranky kids or grown-ups, bills, and other slightly annoying stuff.

Also, in my average day I realize, that still I am so blessed, that my peace and my joy run the background music of my life. That if I really listen and pay attention it is always there.

That's pretty cool.

So now I'm sitting on the couch, everyone is asleep and I kinda wish i had a girlfriend or two to hang out with...but even if I don't it's okay.

Maybe I'll just have an average night with some silly tv and a few leftover cookies.

Ok, tonight is a little hard. I don't typically like to blog when I am feeling down in the dumps. I don't like to put that stuff out there... usually I go back and wince at the emotion of it all.

But it's only day three so I can't back off now.

I can't find two books I know I had in January. They are for the next two bible studies at church and I can't find them anywhere.

What is normally frustrating is pushing me towards tears tonight. Gah!

And it hurts me a little to be so vulnerable all. the.time.

I know some of this is hormonal and that in a few days I'll be feeling much better but it's more than a little uncomfortable to be in this place.

So that's it. Nothing profound. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing that will minister to you or even me. Just a big fat whine.

I'm going to have a cup of coffee and a good cry I think.

And if you see my books wandering around town, sad...homeless...neglected...tell them I miss them and will they please come home.

Edit:

I just almost deleted this whole thing because I did think of something a little better to write about...but it just refuses to come out so I'm gonna stick with more honest and less interesting.

It's amazing what a simple challenge does to your mindset... like saying "I'm giving up soda" brought on cravings for the bubbly like I've never experienced before. Taking a once a month craving to an almost daily desire...

This is also my experience with Blog-A-Day. I sent large parts of my day in thought about this or that and then thought..."That might be a good blog."

And I wonder now, do I table some of the more interesting thoughts to explore again later in cyberspace, on a day I'm not feeling so inspired? Do I blog all my rabbit trail thoughts? Is anyone besides Stacee even going to read this stuff? :)

So I guess one of the best and most exciting parts of the grand experiment will be finding my voice. This thrills me to no end. Enough that I almost don't care if anyone besides Stacee reads this...

Once upon a time I actually considered myself, among other things, a writer. I loved to get lost in the stories and prose I'd put to paper. A lot of it full of the vain imaginings of adolescence... the raw emotion strung together to form some sort of validation for the mess that was jumbled in my head. I certainly wasn't great, but most of my non-greatness could easily be chalked up to inexperience more than lack of skill.

Then I met and fell in love with one of the greatest writers I would ever be blessed enough to know. I fell in love with him through the written word. He was, and is, incredible.

And I put down my pen. Simply laid it down and put on different title. I would never be a writer like him. I would never measure up. So I just stopped.

Seeing it all written out in front of me it seems, not just sad, but a little pathetic. Who told me I wasn't good enough? Who told me I didn't measure up? Who told me my words, thoughts, feelings, and emotion didn't matter?

No one.

Not one single person spoke those words over me, yet the enemy whispered them in my ear and I was more than happy to agree. To just assume I was less than and walk away from something I loved.

Stupid Satan.

Ridiculous me for believing it.

I guess this is why I enjoy the mere idea of a blog so much. It connects me to something that I just handed over to that thief. It gives me an opportunity to walk right into that serpents camp and reclaim what he stole from me.

What a wonder Jesus is. That He cared for a dream and passion I had let slip so far away I wouldn't have even been able to tell you they were once there.

What a passionate love He must have for me to do this thing for me.

Hmmm... that wasn't even on my list today...

Way back in January a friend of mine decided to blog everyday for a month...and in the process much hilarity ensued. It was really interesting as her reader and friend and I wondered what might I do with the same challenge... so I vowed to start in February...and forgot until about the 3rd. On to March... I forgot...again.

So here it is April. April Fool's Day no less, and I remembered my personal challenge.

It's really hard to feel like I am going to have to figure out something worth writing, and reading, every. single. day.

But here I go.

It's very cold today which is a nice start... it gives me an excuse to sit in front of my computer bundled up in my blankie waxing profound. The weather is so bizarre, a week ago my kids were swimming in the pool outside, now I'm trying to figure out if it's worth it to turn the heat on.

Oh no...my first day and I am talking about weather. Yikes.

It fits my mood though... I am not sad per se, but it's sort of overcast and slightly gloomy... great thinking weather.

It's really quiet in the house, the older kids are out with Grandma and the baby, who is no longer a baby, is taking a nap.

It used to be when I was alone I couldn't wait to turn on some music and rock out...but the quiet is so beautiful. Just the sound of the running water of the fish tank.

Silence is really underrated.

I think in the silence I can really hear the vastness of God. Of His great love for me. of his choosing me.

In the vastness of the quiet my heart can truly sing to Him and call out to Him.

I feel like God has reawakened...or perhaps awakened for the first time...passion for serving Him. I feel like I see God in a way I never have before. I feel His love and His challenge in a way that electrifies my very soul. I can hardly sit still for the excitement, yet that is what He is asking me to do. To sit and ponder, and feel and, love and be loved like never before.

Is this my time of refreshing? Is this rest before the battle? Or is this how I am called to fight at this moment in time?

I understand Joy in sorrow. I understand excitement in grief. I relish it and let it wash over me.

So this is it...day one of my ramblings...