Archives for February 2006

1. I am alone in the house. Paul is getting the kids from his mother’s where they spent the evening while we worked on a budget.

2. I feel good because I am not terribly behind on laundry, my room is quite neat, as are the living room and kitchen – crap – forgot the dining room – the piano is a mess of little pieces of things from all over the house. Oh bother, was, going to say for #3 that there is nothing I “have ” to do and relish that.

3. Am going to go throw a load in the wash and then clear off the piano. It sounds so boring but I know it will bring peace and comfort to me and my family. It is amazing when you consider how powerfully the mundane chores of daily life shape how we feel and, in part, who we are.

It snowed today. The fall was heavy but soft and slow. It was peaceful, as if God was gently shaking cotton balls on us.

We have been having a lazy day. The kids begged for a break and so I released them to play and I read and cuddled a sleepy Bean.

Christopher popped a button on his pants. Normally when this happens I like to leave the item that needs mending to marinate somewhere in the laundry until I have lost the button. Today I asked Christopher to fetch the sewing basket and immediately sewed the button back in place. Christopher was terribly pleased. He and Eden began playing with the contents of the basket. He organized needles while she put all the buttons in a box then happily dumped them on the ground.

It reminded me of playing with my mother’s button box when I had the chicken pox during the Blizzard of 78. I made a long necklace that was so beautiful and pleasing. I remember fingering it with a certain longing. I don’t know why I didn’t ask if I could keep it. I think it was implicit that that buttons would be returned to the box.

Lydia was happily cutting pictures and relating helpful tips from a magazine.

It was relatively quiet and very peaceful. I didn’t make up anything I “ought” to be doing. I enjoyed it and them and was grateful.

I told myself, “You can create a link. I know you can. Somewhere in all that mess of code will be something you can understand and copy.”

I was right.

I am tremendously pleased. You gotta walk before you run, baby or crawl or roll over or kick your feet in the air…or jerk your arms around reflexively – I think that might be where I am.

Wherever, I am very proud.

https://alisonhodgson.com/2006/02/1037/

Lydia caught Eden and me munching on some uncooked ramen noodles (Terrible any way you look at it, I know) that she had left while she waited for the water to boil.

“Why did you eat my noodles!” She shouted.

“Well, we were hungry. Right, Beanie?”

“Wight. Our tummies were hum-bowl-y.”

When I awoke, in a suburb of Vancouver, B.C., early Monday morning the sun was behind the mountains – not that I could see them as they were behind the clouds. I said a little prayer that I would be able to see the mountains at least once. The sun continued to rise, burning away the clouds and allowed the mountains to appear. They didn’t return the entire week – the clouds, that is.

Those of you who know or are from the Pacific Northwest can recognize the miracle of five gloriously sunny days. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Can you believe that?

One day I lay down on the floor in a patch of sunlight just as I had when I was a child.

The majority of my time was spent lounging around in my pajamas, drinking coffee, eating delicious meals, talking with my sister, Torey, and her sister-in-law, Allison, watching T.V. –

(“What do you guys like to watch?”

“We pretty much bounce between HGTV and the Food Network.”

Um, Heaven!)

looking at mountains, breaking up showdowns between the toddlers-

“What do you need to say to your cousin?”

“Ah sorry Ah took yo stroller. Will you fogive me?”

“Ah fahgive you.”

“What do YOU need to say to your cousin?

“Ah sorry for hitting you on da head with my puppy. Will you fahgive me?”

“Ah fogive you.”

and weeping. All week I was extremely emotional. A bread commmercial made me cry. (It was an extremely moving bread commercial.) The last night I was there I was debating about going to a Pilates class Torey was teaching. I had put Beanie in bed a little early as she had skipped a nap and was rather fussy. I waited a bit and then decided she was going to make it and hurried to put on my coat. Checking in with David just as I headed out he assured me, “We’ll be fine. Just go. Have a good time.”

Allison chimed in too, “If she gets up we’ll just squeeze her.”

Heading downstairs to the garage I began to cry. When Torey noticed this she was concerned then, learning why, started to laugh.

“Do you need a hug? Come here!”

I was a teensy bit hormonal – but still! I think it was getting out from under almost all my responsibilities and allowing myself to rest and to be cared for. I didn’t really sleep great, but I rarely felt tired: that’s feedback.

I am learning a lot about what I carry. I don’t really know what all it entails, but I am recognizing the heaviness and know I have been promised that, “His burden is light.” I can do the math: if my load is heavy and His burden is light, I must be holding onto things that don’t belong to me.

This is not the first time; through the years I have been invited to and have laid down pride, unforgiveness, guilt and fear. Now as I searched through my spirit to name the unassigned burden it fell with a gentle ping – joylessness, even, a resistance to joy – and I shuddered a weep.

Upon consideration, choosing joylessness, in the midst of all my blessings seems really stupid, or at the least, ill advised.

I know I get to choose joy and I’m not sure how.

Fortunately, I am surrounded by excellent teachers.

https://alisonhodgson.com/2006/02/1039/