Thursday, November 27, 2014

Thanksgiving Thoughts


"It is good to give thanks to the Lord ..." ...Psalm 92:1


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It's quiet here at Hobbit Cottage this early Thanksgiving morning, no snow outside (in case you're keeping track), just warmth and anticipation of a day spent with Tom and a Skype call from Naomi.

I'll make a lemon meringue pie and some banana pudding from scratch along with traditional Thanksgiving dinner fare (each item prepared the simplest of ways, natch) and after I feed the birds and light candles in the fireplace, Tom and I will watch favorite shows and chat during commercials, calling it all good because it is.

How wonderful to relax and give thanks, to remind ourselves just how good we've got it. And to remember more intently the One from whom these blessings have come; how He always takes care of us, outside job included or not. Never has He walked away. Never will He.

Wishing all my faithful readers the happiest of Thanksgivings!







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Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.

Melody Beattie


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Have time for a blessing? Here's an amazing acapella rendition of Silent Night. (Don't miss the ending!)

Wow. Just wow.


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Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Transition. Ugh.




"Transition: the period of time during which something changes from 
one state or stage to another."


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So for two days I've sat at our table rereading my Bailey White books beneath a lamp. Usually the light from the big windows is enough, but the afternoons have appeared more like evening and well, I don't like that. Who does? So I remain beneath a lamp. And beside a tiny heater.

Oh how I enjoy Bailey White's first two books, so much so that I must tell that jealous voice inside me to hush up. Gee, I wish I could write like Bailey. I also wish I had as many odd relatives as she does or--at the very least--that my brain could make up hilarious stories about mine without them disowning me. Alas.

Of course, wishing won't get any of that; wishing wastes the time one could have spent reading books about writing humor and practicing writing, itself. Oh, and searching for other people's relatives to write funny stories about.

Anyway.

My least favorite time of year? This one. This uncomfortable time of transitioning from Autumn to Winter, from having had 6 months of pretty weather when I could stroll around the yard whenever the craving came to, instead, having snow and a cruel type of cold which splices through ones heavy black wool coat if she dares steps out the back door. 

It's a transition time which involves acceptance that Life has changed. At least for the next 6 months.

Of course, my far west friends might not understand this, those to whom Winter means just grabbing a hooded jacket on their way to the gym or work or the town library. Here, Winter means so much more, the 'more' being mostly unpleasant where outdoors is concerned, so unpleasant that one will, 99% of the time, choose to stay indoors if at all possible.

Yet lest the entire Winter remain uncomfortable, lest I complain through the whole thing, I must work through this transition time. I must face it, accept it, in order to find the door to that blessed slower, golden pace which belongs only to these months, only in these snowy states.

When I quit kicking against what's gonna happen, when I accept rather than avoid--I find peace and Winter's unique cadence. And then I discover more doors to the alive, growing things inside rather than out, things like joy and grace, both which come only after acceptance has completed her perfect work.




Tom brought home the flowers for me yesterday for our anniversary.






Every mile is two in winter. ~from Witts Recreations


To shorten winter, borrow some money due in spring. ~W.J. Vogel




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Happy Thanksgiving Eve!








Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Wow. Doesn't Seem Possible.



In a time when nothing is more certain than change, the commitment of two people to one another has become difficult and rare. Yet, by its scarcity, the beauty and value of this exchange have only been enhanced. ~Robert Sexton


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As of today, Tom and I have been married 36 years. 

What an impossible thing.

When Tom proposed to me one month after we met, I wondered what had taken him so long. Three months later we clueless-about-Life kids had the wedding and oh, the arguing those first five years.

Mostly, it was oh, the long process of dying to self. Neither of us went down easy, being certifiably stubborn and determined to be the last man/woman standing.

But eventually we let God iron-out the craziest wrinkles and Life felt smoother, especially when we told some well-meaning-folks to knock-off the advice. We needed to discover what worked for us rather than what worked for pushers of one size fits all.

We're both agreed that we've never exactly worked at our marriage. Probably the word 'work' sounds too wearily intense for us who seek the easy way to do anything. If we have any secret to our long-lasting relationship it is this:

Let God change you, each of you, however He wishes.

You go doing that and the pieces almost magically fit into their proper places.

So there you go.

It's a lovely thing to have been married so near Thanksgiving. Always, there's at least one day-off around there which we can choose to spend together. This year we are choosing Friday and this year, as with them all, we'll celebrate with a simplicity that rings true for us and never grows stale.










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In the opinion of the world, marriage ends all, as it does in a comedy. The truth is precisely the opposite: it begins all. ~Anne Sophie Swetchine



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