One at a time

Writing allows me the opportunity to know myself better. And I love it. I sit and hatch an idea or I process through life with the written word. Unfortunately I seem to find other things to take its place. In early November I found myself promising to blog each week. I have failed at that, a simple 30 minute exercise. I have begun to write my family more. That was interrupted by the holidays, but I fully expect to pick it up again. By now I was supposed to have my book fully drafted. I barely worked on it the past four months.

The fact of the matter is we assign things a certain importance. When something is important enough we find the time to do it. I have discovered a simple fact, though. Some of the things that I need most I find difficult to schedule into my "busy" life. It's like I'm being tricked. It has been made unmistakingly clear to me that I need to finish my book. Even if I never publish it, God has given me something to share and I must share it. Blogging allows me a simple and quick method of writing, something I find soothing and cleansing to the soul. My Bible reading is pathetic and my soul shrivels from lack of time spent in the oasis of prayer.

I am a writer. Therefore I must write. I am a child of God. Therefore I must spend time with Him. He has charged me with encouraging and lifting up His people. Therefore I must pray and read His word and be with His people. I have been tricked by the sense of being overwhelmed. Where do I possibly begin? At the beginning.

One day at a time. One choice at a time. One word at a time, be it spoken, read, or written. Just one at a time.

Unsung Heroes

I recently finished a book about World War Two, focusing primarily on London during the Blitz, but other fine moments in England's history during that long war. I am always amazed when something manages to wake me up to the fact that WWII wasn't just GIs in bars on leave with the pretty girls, it's not just Pearl Harbor and A League of Their Own. Europe experienced a very different war than we did. Though I will in no way desire to down-play what Americans experienced, I am focusing here on what I read in All Clear, which focuses on England; their war was very different from ours.

Night after night raids plagued London. The blackout, V1's, V2's, fires, shelters, rationing, I can't even seem to explain to myself what this means to me. The reminder of what mankind has survived. What we are capable of. We can pull together and make it through seemingly horrifyingly never ending times. And London didn't see all of it, either, there was still France, the Russian front, Auschwitz, Hiroshima, the list goes on and on. The wars I've lived through were very impersonal. I didn't really think about them at all. WWII wasn't like that. It hit home with Americans and Europeans alike.

The unsung heroes of the war include ambulance drivers and entertainers, women who worked while the men were away, moms that raised kids alone, people who opened their homes to those who'd lost theirs, families formed in the shelters, men and women putting out fires, digging through debris, refusing to lose hope through all the dark months and years. They were prisoners too. The human spirit never ceases to amaze me. Perhaps that's what I love about history so much. And Connie Willis has a knack for capturing that spirit. First in Doomsday Book, and now Blackout and All Clear, I truly appreciate her ability to bring those days to life for me.

I am thankful for the men and women, military and civilian alike, who fought then, and those who fight now, for the freedoms we enjoy but rarely recognize.

Restaurant Row

I have issues with food. It's true. I have certain things I can't eat and certain things I won't eat and certain things I "absolutely have to have." There are times all I want to do is eat "like everyone else," especially when there's a gathering of people and it's just easier to order pizza or grab sandwiches. For me to eat costs extra and takes extra effort. Most of the time I don't mind. Other times it's all I can do to keep from flipping out and eating everything I'm not supposed to.

Thursday I was having a bad food day. Then I had a thought. I am blessed to have these food issues. Why? Because it shows I have a choice about what I eat. Most people don't have that luxury. If I can't eat something at one restaurant, I have fifty others to choose from.

I have to be thankful for my food issues because they remind me of the blessings I have living in America. It's amazing that we live in a nation where deciding what to eat takes half an hour because we have so much to choose from. Humbling. Kind of disgusting. Gives me something to chew on the next time I slam the refrigerator door shut and mutter, "there's nothing to eat."

Found: Lots and lots of time

Note: I began this post on July 21st and find that it is very applicable to my life in the here and now and so I have chosen to actually publish it today, not as a July post.

Amazing how often we "don't have time" for some things and yet we get other things done in record time.

When we are determined, suddenly there is time! Loads of it. We find it in the morning, in the evening, between meals, over the lunch break, before bed, during a favorite program that we decide to DVR or catch online, the list goes on. It doesn't matter when we find the time, only that we do! We are determined, so there must be time!

On the other hand we're always running out of time for those things we don't really care about or don't want to do. Seems I never have enough time to wash the dishes or put the camping gear away, or even do my homework. Exercise? What's that? Tragically, reading my Bible always seems to make that list. But when it comes to deciding that I want to blog every week, write one sibling set each week, my grandmother each Sunday, and get my book finished (at least a draft) by the new year, I wonder to myself, will I have time?

You bet. Because there's always time, it's simply a matter of choices. Each morning I wake up I have a choice: heed the alarm or sleep through it. And that is followed by choice after choice after choice. I pray for the strength to make the right ones.

The last of the season...

Alas. October is nearing its end. Last night I finished the last of the mellowcreme pumpkins. It's a sad addiction. One that lasts me only part of September and all of October. I hate it. I eat them and feel my teeth rotting in my mouth, I can't eat more than four or five before I need a gallon of water to purge my system of the poison I can feel permeating everything. And yet I love them. I ate the last one last night and thought, "Oh, how sad. I want some more." But I refuse to buy any more! No! October is complete! I can now look towards healthier living! Real pumpkin and smoothies and water and veggies! Oatmeal and stews! It is definitely fall (has been for over a month now - to think I haven't blogged since August! Agast!), and I have so many recipes I have been waiting for this splendid season to try!

So fare you well, mellowcreme pumpkins! I hope I can resist you next year!