Your Eyes

My newest favorite song is "Give me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath. I definately need His eyes for others but in listening to it in carline alone awaiting Colton pick-up, as He gave me what I prayed for, He also directed my gaze a little differently. I have been pretty down on my external appearance and a few other things lately, but He helped me see that I am one of those "humanity" that I want to love with His love.

Complaining vs. praising--being positive

I have in the last few months been attempting to go against the grain of the world and praise more instead of complaining. I have seldom been one who went to the customer services department often or sent orders back in restaurants because I haven't been one to even really speak my mind when irritated. I don't want to offend or engage in conflict, but I haven't actively praised or noted when someone did a good job.

It started at the bank when a drive thru teller remembered that I had two boys and asked if they wanted me to bring them suckers when theywere not with me and I was driving the X-terra (David's usual mode of transportation). See, I had that in Wetumpka, but not in Auburn or Orting or Millbrook or Cumming. So I called her supervisor and let her know!!!! Then we were switching garbage carriers so we would not have to take our can all the way to the end of our lane; found one that came down to our driveway. I got so aggrivated with our former garbage service during this process, but I called and left a thankful message with the new one instead because of the way they were handling us with care. This has continued at the store, returned to the bank and flowed into a couple of restaurants who have served me and my two testosterone filled children. I have enjoyed it immensely until I received a gently prod in the heart a couple of days ago that doing it in the outside world is good but how about at home? Once again He caught me in my self-adoration and gave me His glimpse. I want to do this more with David and the boys and so I am TRYING to go into my days (only last two) looking for things to praise and thank, because I think I had taken up residency in their "customer service departments" with my white gloves on waiting to motivate and correct.

Walking at a cemetary

There is a cemetary near Colton's preschool with a nicely paved road through it and to save time and gas while getting some excercise, I have walked there several times recently while he is in school. For some, walking in a cemetary would be wierd and possibly spooky but elderly people have been a large part of my entire life therefore making funerals and cemetary visits regular as well. This particular cemetary intrigues me. For many newer ones, there are rules that must be followed as to what type of headstone is allowed; what flowers are recommended; etc. --much like H.O.A.s. Those are good keeping everything cared for and uniform. But here it is well-kept but allows so much variety. There are headstones of all sizes from tall statues to simple flat markers, from the Civil War soldier markers to wide marble monuments covering entire families. I also love that they are allowed to have hanging baskets on curved stakes or solor powered light stakes or potted plants - pretty much whatever is wanted. One even has a stone bench signifying pretty frequent and long visiting to the place by a loved one. Each one is a celebration of the life that once inhabited the empty body beneath as well as the lives of the generations in which that life invested its earthly time. Cemetaries have stories to tell that are often missed in the hustle and bustle of life. Some are of sadness and loss of early life like that of entire family killed in a train wreck in 1964 (both parents and 5 kids ranging from 16 yrs. old to toddler age). Other stories are of love and memories. One quote I saw stated: "Memories of the past shall stay to bring joy despite the sorrow."

Books

I found out what I could have been when I grew up. I am not sure why it has taken me 32 years to realize that I would have loved this profession. It obviously is not one that would financially fulfill but it hit me on Wednesday when I volunteered at Dax's school. With Colton's schedule altared this week, I went in to help out the librarian (media director) set up for the book fair. For one, I love books!!! I love libraries!!! I LOVE BOOK FAIRS!!!! So she showed me how to help the children sort the books upon return to make reshelving easier and oversee them during checkout. I also sorted the posters and numbered them for checkout. I had forgotten about the posters !!The books and pens and fun erasers I remembered! The other fun stuff was not there: the software, the activities, the games! I know I didn't see the difficult parts of the job; when the books come back beaten or when someone takes you for granted. But to connect something I love so much with kids like that; watching their little faces light up when the book they want is on the shelf just waiting to go with them on an adventure and carry them away to another place. Wow!

What if?

If the "church" is most lived out at certain buildings at certain times of the week with certain groups, what happens if someone comes in and decrees that we cannot go to those places, open those doors, or participate in those practices? What will happen to her?

Trust

(Been in shutdown a few weeks, as well as adjusting to new role as "chauffeur" with both boys attending some type of school- complete with volunteering, signing papers, emptying folders, packing lunches and snacks, doing laundry, making sure we dress in the right color on the right day, and so many more amazing things.)



I observed a situation on the playground one day while waiting for Dax in the carline. It must have been at least two weeks ago but I haven't been able to shake the image and processing it has churned up a list of questions within me. One little girl (4th or 5th grade) approached a "friend" and obviously convinced her to play the Trust Fall game where one person falls and the other catches. The initiator fell back and was faithfuflly caught. Then they switched. The former catcher proceeded to fall completely settled in the knowledge that she too would be caught (I have to interject I was more confident in her ability to be caught for she was smaller in stature -neither was what I would call big though). However, the initiator of the game exaggeratedly stepped aside at the last moment allowing her former catcher to fall to the ground while she laughed at her. The fallen didn't appear to be physically hurt, but her body language told volumes from her heart. She didn't show anger but confusion and embarassment. There were 50 or so feet, a small garden of sorts, a fence, and my car door separating us but I felt the whole thing too. I don't ever remember playing the game and being dropped but I have been metaphorically dropped a few times in the past 32 years.

The initial questions were: "What makes some be the dropper and some be the droppee? Is it personality: one is a comedian without feelings and one is a sensitive, gullible, wimpy "wuss" (me hanging out in the wuss category)? These stayed with the image for days and I would ponder them, and examine them to no avail with no answer or confirmation to be found.

The past day or so though, others have joined in and had more of a resounding effect: What makes one trust? Is it innocently there in all of us in the beginning and then chiseled away with life? What had the initiator experienced that drove her to act out in such a way? What would the "fallen one" do the next time a trust opportunity presented itself? How do I respond when trust opportunities are presented and do I do or inflict anything on others out of my distrust scars? Are we supposed to be able to trust in eachother as brothers and sisters? Is trust a piece of Eden that remained through the Fall? If so, how do we protect it, compelling ourselves to trust and trust again as well as be trustworthy?

I found in interesting that my NCV Concordance addressed trust as "a duty" listing Luke 16:11, 1 Corinthians 4:2, Titus 2:10.
The verse that resounded within my own scarred heart was Romans 10:11 which sums up who we are to put ultimate trust in above everything and everyone: "As the Scripture says, 'Anyone who trusts in him [Jesus] will never be disappointed." (quoting Isaiah 28:16)

External Comforts

There are hurts and losses that can only be healed in the spirit. No amount of will or activity can overcome it; only God can touch those wounds and bring them to a place where they can exist without cringing pain or stinging ache. He is faithful to work and does so with skill, time, and love.

On the outside, the skin, though I believe there are things that bring about comfort- increase endorphine flow --whatever, they just help. I am with the majority in casserole comfort and a good brownie with of course, a Dr.Pepper but the following can't be beat in the world of Farah:

10. Crying

9. Drying flowers

8. Playing in the rain

7. Laughing at funny emails from great friends about PMS and GPS

6. watching Gilmore Girls

5. Reading Brennan Manning

4. Writing

3. Checking on others that I care about and shouldering their burdens with them

2. Sitting and visiting with good friends about nothing really

#1. DECORATING- using what I already have, painting it, moving it around, giving it a new look. We've been transforming the boys room into an older version -going with the AU sports of all kinds, planning space for new big beds and attempting to organize all their stuff and it has been a huge soft place upon which I could throw myself in this past hard week.

There is something about seeing things in which your loved ones are involved! One of my favorites is seeing places that David has been a part of building--I enjoy just seeing pictures or plans of stuff I couldn't go to but I loved driving by the mill in Tacoma, seeing the hospital in Puyallup, and the office building in Bonney Lake; I enjoyed walking through the church and have been amazed at all they have done at the school so far. My most favorites are the bathroom renovations that we have done together-he actually does the work and I watch with the occasional hold (complete transformation at townhouse in Puyallup and closet addition now)! I do decorate it after. Woohoo!



Since moving into our current residence, we have noticed several areas that aren't what you would call straight lines or right angles but we love it anyway. This became all too apparent this weekend. In our bathroom this extra space has been the object of my repeated inspection over the last two years as I contemplated what we really wanted to do with it. We decided on a linen/storage closet. As he dove into the framing of the doorway this weekend, suddenly it was quite obvious that the space we were inserting the rectangular door was actually a larger parallelogram rather than a rectangle. It's little oddities and deformities were completely transparent until we inserted the acurately measured and cut pieces of wood frame. The first reaction is to think the framing is weird and then your realize no it is the already existing wall!



In observing this, I realized this happens all too often in the journey of life with Christ. We often look fine and functional but when He is inserted into our life, we are way off!! It is easy to think that He made us be that way upon His insertion or that He is the one that is askew, but in reality He has just given us an accurate measure. Unfortunately the outside world often sees this too, before He has time to plumb us up. That is where we begin to judge one another as hypocrites.



Unfortunately, in our bathroom, there is no way to align those walls around that new framing; we must rely on sheetrock, mud, tape, and paint to mask the 88 or 92 degree angles. But thankfully, in our spiritual life He can line us up on Himself with time, journey, and process.