Watching Ice Melt

This morning I turned the kitchen faucet onto the hottest setting and dumped the ice out of the freezer into the sink to let the water do it's thing.

Why, you ask?

Well, for some reason, the ice maker has decided to drip water as it makes ice.  This means that the ice freezes into one big chunk and is worthless.  So, every few days, I dump the chunk and start over.

It should be irritating and I have all kinds of analogies about band-aiding the problem instead of fixing the cause.

But, watching the ice melt is therapeutic.

I move the faucet over it and let it concentrate in one area.  After it's created a hole, I move it to another spot.  Eventually, I have to move the block of ice to a different position so the faucet can do its thing.  I even like to be strategic on where I place the faucet so that the water will create a hole that divides the ice into pieces instead of a big chunk.

Probably sounds silly.  In fact, I KNOW it's silly.  But it's also a reminder to me that if I allow the hot water to do it's thing, then I can start fresh.  The big chunk of ice does nobody any good, but the pieces of ice make make happy on a hot day.

And seeing the hot water melt away the useless ice reminds me that hot water has it's purpose.  It's okay to dump the whole thing and start over every now and then.

The ice certainly tastes fresher.

What if we were not afraid of the hot water and we let it do its thing in our life?  What if we were not scared of starting over every now and then?  

So every so often, I dump the ice and begin anew.  

Bare Windows

Granny's house is what you think of when "grandma's house" comes to mind.  A lot of 1980's pale blue, floral wallpaper, dark curtains and lace sheers on every window.  In Granny's house, we have the added benefit of her decor reflecting that she is 100% Polish and Catholic.

Earlier in the week I went away for a few days.  When I came back, I walked in the house and was amazed at the difference!  First of all, Brian's cousin Connie cleaned all the windows and more.  The house sparkled (something that doesn't happen when I'm in charge...unless it means I've left glitter everywhere...which *might* actually happen).

After looking around and talking to Connie, I realized there was more.  She had not only opened all the curtains, she pushed back the sheers and opened the blinds--or even lifted them all the way up in some places.  The difference was astounding!  The dark, cramped spaces became bright and inviting. It gave the house a whole new personality--one that made me want to dance and twirl!

Connie left a few days ago, but I have continued to open the curtains, lift the blinds and hide the sheers.  Don't tell Granny, but I actually took the sheers down in my room! *GASP* Mornings at the farm have always been my favorite, but now they compete with the afternoon and evenings because of the gorgeous light coming in all the windows.

Not to be too cheesy, but it's got me thinking...

How many times do we close the curtains of our life and even when we open them, we have blinds and sheers underneath.  The sheers feel inviting--who doesn't like a little bit of lace?  But the fact is, the lace is one more layer--albeit a pretty one--to keep people from seeing the whole picture our window shows.  

Sometimes, the view isn't always pretty--I see an electrical box that survived a fire outside of my bedroom window--something that scares me when I think of how close we came to losing the whole farm.  And the overgrowth across the street where a house used to be makes me sad.  In the same way, we all have things that are not pretty.  We can continue to cover them up, but we miss letting others share the view and see the things around those not-so-pretty pictures.  

The windmill and old barn to the right of the electrical box.

The beautiful bushes that have sprung up across the street (that btw, I've had to tell Granny over and over we can't dig up and put in her yard--but she keeps asking).

Have you opened the curtains of your life but kept the sheers in place?  What would it take for each of us to push those to the side or even take them down?  

I believe in the depths of my soul that the view you (and others) will get will far outweigh the fear of the ugly.  I'm willing to risk it, are you?

Life is a Highway...or Jesus Take the Wheel--you Decide

I know a certain 16 year old who doesn't have her driver's license.  She's had her permit for a long time, but--until tonight--has refused to drive on the highway.  The other night, we even had to back up on a skinny road two different times, drove to Sonic where we made it between the yellow poles without touching them, AND dodged a golf cart.  Yet, she still refused to take the highway.

But tonight, she did it!  She conquered her fear and drove on the smooth highway that was a straight shot and 5 mins faster to get home.  As we were cruising along, I had a thought...

How many times is the path in front of me very easy and yet, I take the long way around?  Maybe because I'm scared of the other cars on the road.  Maybe because I've gotten used to taking it slow and am afraid of going fast.  Maybe just because it's unfamiliar.  So I continue to drive the road that curves and winds, dodge the kids on bikes and families with strollers.  I'm even even willing to deal with the stop signs every 1/4 mile.

Just so I can avoid the highway.

But when I do and the music is blaring and the windows are down (unless it's summer in Texas--then it's much better for the AC to be crankin), there's a freedom that envelops my whole body.  A joy that comes with the speed. A feeling of being untethered.

And it IS worth tackling my fear.

So if you happen to wave at me when we are out and about on the road, I may not see you because I'll be  singing "Life is a Highway" at the top of my lungs. 

A Royal Conversation

Me:  We need to close the baby chickens door.

Him: It's raining and lightning.

Me:  I'm going anyway--lightning won't strike me.

Him: SIGH...I'll go.

Me: I don't mind.

Him: (As he buttons his raincoat) Remember, I want to be cremated, not buried.

Me: Where do you want me to throw your ashes? The farm?

Him: I don't care--you can throw me in the toilet.

Me: I'll scatter you at the farm at dead dog hill over Bubba and Callie and Hank.

Him: Well, that's better than Dead Chicken Hill.

Me: True

#itsaroyallife

Getting out of my Funk

I went to bed last night in a funk and woke up the same way today.  Nothing major happened to cause it.  Nobody in my family has the virus.  We have plenty of food and toilet paper. We will be able to pay all our bills this month. 

But, the reality that this probably won't be over in a few more days hit me and sent me in a downward spiral of worry and unrest. 

When I start to feel sorry for myself, I know I need to find ways to look outside of myself--not to escape, but to remind me that my fears are small in the big picture of life.  So, with that in mind, this morning I decided to sign up to help pass out food to families at our church's ministry center. 

Y'ALL!  We fed 280 kids tonight!  Most of what I did was sorting and packing--which, if you know me, you know how much of that I've done the last 9 years with Lovepacs!  It brought me life!  I can't buy food for all those kids, but I can help put together a box that has a variety of food in it and pray over it as I pack it!  I can invite a friend to help pack with me.  I can tell others of the needs for food. 

And, tonight, I am going to bed with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.  I made a difference today by doing something small, but something  I am good at. 

If you are looking for a way to make a difference, they are passing out food to families from 5-6pm each night until Friday. You can donate food at the Argyle campus (there are bins outside the main entrance of Cross Timbers Church) or, if you live in Aubrey, you can leave food on my porch and I will get it there.  We needed LOTS more canned veggies and fruit, kid-friendly soups, canned tuna/chicken, and chef boyardee-type meals  tonight. There were plenty of snack items, but things like spaghetti would have been a great addition to the boxes we handed out to families. 

You can also sign up to pass out the food.  Here is the link:  https://crosstimberschurch.org/hopecenter/?fbclid=IwAR0omi4aOmcITV7nMow-MASa8Bta_M-O7xZJDIN0YN532hT0cJvOS2XlKCs

If you know of a family in need, send them to Cross Timbers Church in Denton btwn 5-6pm.  They will need to bring their kids with them.  They will stay in the car and volunteers will bring the boxes to them. 

Finally, would you pray with me--for enough food for every family who comes this week?  For enough volunteers to sort and pack?  For this ministry center staff who is planning and organizing all the moving parts of this behind the scenes?

Praying for all of us tonight--that we each find a way to get out of ourselves and serve others in a way that not only brings hope to them, but brings us life too! 

#givehope

Defining Today

I dread the scale at the dr's office.  I cringe when I step on it because I know a one-time look at the scale does not tell the story of my progress.  The nurse writing on my chart doesn't know that while the number shown is still not ideal, it's SO much better than 6 months ago.

As I was contemplating this and suppressing the need to defend my weight, I had another thought.  This medical staff has never seen me before today.  They don't know who I was--they only see who I am at this moment.  They don't know that yesterday I had a milestone.  (I officially hit the 50 lb weight loss mark--yay me!)  But they don't know that (unless I tell them).  They look at today's numbers and make their assessment based on it.

How often do we let what we failed at yesterday define us today?  Most days, I still see that 50 lbs when I look in the mirror.  Or the yelling I did at my girls.  Or the task that once again did not get marked off my list.  Or the lack of compassion I showed to a co-worker.  I could go on and on here--I'm an expert at failing.

Please hear me--I believe in the value of looking back and realize how that helps us take the correct steps forward. 
BUT...
How different would today be if I took it at face value?  If I looked at the facts and not the history.  What would change?

Being New

This weekend our church celebrated it's 20 year birthday, but I've only been there for the last three.  As I was doing the math, I realized, that when CT started, I had just begun attending my old church--where I was for 17 years.  So, if I had found CT back then, I would have been here all 20 years.

I'll admit, that made me a bit regretful.  I love this place so much that it's hard to not think I waited too long to get here.  In my head, I know I didn't--the peopleI met at my previous church were more than worth it.  But, as people were reminiscing about the first years, I found myself a bit melancholy and envious.  Partly because I don't talk to many from my old church any more.  Friendships that I thought would last forever have died away. Also, I like history--and being a part of it.  I'm used to being the one with the memories and I don't like the new girl feeling--that yuck of being on the outside, looking in.

As I was wallowing, I kept seeing people post pics next to a big 20 display our team had made. 

And I realized that display was created around the snow globe structure that Brian had made me for our kids lobby this Christmas. 

So maybe I DO get to have a part in the memories, but I also have a part moving forward.  I get to be a part of the new memories people make.