Good News - Bad News

Good News, Bad News.

Good News - I have inherited my mom's hair, still no grey at 56!

Bad News - I have inherited my mom's hair, it's getting thinner and thinner.

But at least something is 

Thin!

Letter To Mom

Wow, this one felt good to get written. Come on over to Recovering Church Lady and read a letter to my mom. Thanks friends!

I am sitting here in my house that is totally silent other than a loud tick-tock from our inherited wall clock. I just kissed the Hubs good-bye before he roared off to work on his motorcycle. I always go stand at the front door as I watch him ride away for his hour long commute to work each day. I feel like June Cleaver. 

I may be channeling her these days because I am a work at home writer now and I often have dinner ready when he gets home and even if he does not arrive home until 10pm, I try to make sure there is something for him to eat before bed. Who is this person? Ha! 

I have sent out tons of blog posts that included these lines: "I never cook because I hate it and we eat out every day for lunch while at work so we just snack at dinner time."  That was our pattern, our lifestyle once upon a time. But our pattern has changed into something completely different and still strange. Hubs works as a cashier in a store for minimum wage about 30 hours a week and I bring in about $100-$150 a week with small writing jobs while I try to get "the big one". 

So I stand at the front door of our house which is still ours (yay!) and I am full of thanks for my life and my husband and kids. Sometimes the really loud ticking of our lovely pendulum clock gets on my nerves because I am not used to being home alone, so I put music on nice and loud as I clean the house and write my brains out. :) 

I am especially excited this week because I have been invited to write Guest Blog Posts to two big blog-sites this next week and my mind is tumbling with ideas! These jobs do not pay, but they get me seen and known and it appears that networking and being seen is pretty important for a writer these days. I will give you links to the blogs when it happens.

Becoming a bit of a hermit was not what I expected with this new lifestyle though. My big outings are Walmart and my Tuesday nights with girlfriends. That's it! We don't always go to church on Sundays because Hubs works and I am still not used to going alone. 

But yesterday I had lunch with a friend and former student and it was wonderful! As she questioned me on my writing goals and I got passionate about what I want to write about she kept saying, "Oh that would be a great chapter title!!"  Ha! So I came home and made notes for my possible book that I dream about and fantasize over. 

Who knows? Right now the clock is tick-tocking and reminding me that this blog post is not paying me anything and it is time to move on. I do not see blogging as wasted time though. It is a lovely place to sort my thoughts and connect with you, may cyber friends. I am thankful for you and I pray that this day will hold good promise for you as well. 

One Conversation

One conversation can bring healing to the hurting heart.
Speaking words aloud that have been swirling in our heads for months.
My stomach was turning flip-flops as we drove to the little Tai restaurant.
If it was going to be all small-talk I was determined to move it to big talk!
It is way overdue. No one's fault.
Everyone's fault.

One hour moved into more than two hours.
With eyes brimming they said that no harm was meant,
and told us of the behind-the-scenes happenings
that were happening.

With eyes equally full we said that we knew that.
We had never stopped 'believing the best' about them.
Underneath the surface junk, we knew the hearts and
we never doubted.

Well, yes, we did doubt and we did stick our
little toes into the tempting pool of
bitterness.
But we hated how it felt and quickly
stepped away.

But oh, the freedom to look across that little
shiny black table and smile into loving eyes.
To give forgiveness and accept forgiveness.
So sweet, take a deep breath and let the shoulders fall.

One talk, one conversation.
So powerful and so releasing.
Thank you Father.