May 29, 2015

a troubled peace

I texted a friend this morning about my laundry and my grocery list and my longing for peace.  She responded with a phone call, and we wondered together about peace, and what that's supposed to look like in the thick of it, out from between the covers of the Bible, so to speak.

We knew all the Christian-ese.

Trusting in the Lord, regardless of our circumstances.
Finding peace in Christ, resting in his promises.
Leaning not on our own understanding, but acknowledging Him in all our ways.

And so on.

Not that these things aren't true.  They are, and we believe them!  It's just - how does that LOOK, lived out?  How DO you have peace when the children bicker and hurt each other's feelings, sometimes on purpose?!  When things are wearing out right and left, and not just clothing and appliances, but relationships, too?  When you turn to the Bible for renewed life, but it all feels stale and familiar and lifeless?

What is this peace like, that can come in the midst of the storm that is life?

          ...   ...   ...   ...   ...   ...

I always thought that peace is serenely trusting God without ceasing, brow unwrinkled, heart beating slow and even and certain, sound sleep a given.

But I'm wondering . . .

. . . what if peace is feeling the shallow breathing and the quickened heartbeat, and choosing to trust God's goodness through it?  Despite it.

What if it's seeing destruction and animosity in every direction and somehow hoping for a future held by God, anyway?  Even when you almost can't believe it could be good.

What if peace is not the complete absence of fear and anxious thoughts, but a way through them?

May 27, 2015

no title

It's after 10 pm and no time like bedtime for writing about why I haven't been writing (and then publishing without an edit).  Quick! before I decide (again) that I have nothing to say!!

I haven't written because I am in that season where words are inadequate.  They are pale next to the vividness of life, simplistic next to the complexity of relationships, absurdly compact next to the voluminous waves of my thought life.

I haven't written because so many other people are writing so well, that I cringe at the thought of littering the internet with my drivel.

I haven't written because I was disappointed that so few of you successfully made the transition from the "buretachi" blog to this one.  I changed it in the first place because I thought "buretachi" was so cumbersome and inexplicable.  Turns out change itself was more insurmountable than partially made-up Japanese nomenclature.  But still, I felt let down.

I haven't written because facebook has stolen all my time.  And Amazon's lovely "Look Inside!" feature, which has lured me into many a self-helpful book (from relationships to essential oils).

And essential oils.  I'm so sorry to be so {insert negative descriptive word that means "doing what everyone else is doing" - pedestrian??  bourgeois??} but there it is.  Essential oils are fascinating little buggers.  The income I have made over the years selling my pottery is fast disappearing into the pockets of those who sell these enticingly aromatic little bottles of essence.  I am reading everything I can get my hands on (literally, via the amazing public library system, and virtually, via the amazing internet!) and I. Do. Love. Learning!!

And I haven't written because I haven't had anything sufficiently profound to tell you.  Just, you know, doing laundry and confronting children about character issues (and then seeing just where they might have inherited the aforementioned character issue....) and cooking suppers and reading stories and checking math and grammar and penmanship and weeding the flowerbeds (sometimes, when I'm not sneezing) and wondering when Jesus will come back and take us all home where we so desperately long to be, whether we realize it or not at any given moment.

[I just love a good run-on sentence, don't you?]

So, that's why I haven't written.

But the thing is, my blog is where I see what my dear friends have been writing on their blogs, and I started missing them, and so I came here to check my list, and felt a little forlorn when I saw the date on my last post .... and so here I am, boringly imperfect and unprofound.

And getting sleepy.  My Farmer has actually preceded me up to bed, so I'd better sign off.  I put yardsale pillow shams {but what do you call them after you put the pillows into the shams....?!!} on our bed for the first time and I'm afraid he'll sleep on them.....

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