It’s been a long time since I posted anything. Not that I haven’t thought of you all. In fact, I have so many posts floating around inside my head that once in a while one finds its way out and actually gets saved as a draft . . . although it only has a title to it.
So I’m going to compromise. I don’t have the time to sit down and write down well thought-out posts with deep messages and witty comments. “Deep” to me right now is when I stand at the bottom of my huge pile of boxes in the basement and look all the way up.
Instead, I will try to post little updates via an online diary until life gets back to normal once we are moved.
Dear Diary on Tuesday,
Is it Tuesday already? Thankfully, I made it through Monday. I should’ve been Garfield’s cousin, because Mondays are not my favorite days.
I’m feeling rather proud of myself, which usually means there’s a major fall coming my way. But yesterday I made 100% whole wheat bread that turned out good – for the first time in my 35 years!
(These thoughts will not be coherent or flow freely, so we’ll have to separate them. I mean, really. Who jumps from the mixing bowl to Facebook? Only a woman, I know.)
I’m over the honeymoon phase on facebook. I can’t recall how many times I get on there only to see someone I respect post something that disappoints me. Then it puts a sinking feeling in my heart and the pit of my stomach – and if I’m not careful, it can ruin my day. And then I must turn to the One who will never disappoint. The One whose Word is true and righteous altogether.
I know . . . I think too much. Lowell sometimes pretends there’s a dial on my forehead that he can use to switch my brain off. He seriously needs to figure out that it’s broken. The only time I’m not thinking is when I’m sleeping. And then I dream crazy dreams.
You know that ridiculous excuse we’ve all heard that somebody used – although who was dumb enough to use it, I don’t know. The one about the dog eating their homework? Do dogs even eat paper?
Well, that excuse might not be as ridiculous as it looks at first glance because, um . . .
The baby ate my grocery list.
He really did – or tried to! I picked it out of the shopping cart this morning and there was a huge gaping hole in it. I hadn’t ate it. Wyatt hadn’t ate it. That left the fat, squishy baby in the shopping cart with a grin on his face.
So Wyatt and I went fishing. I swished my finger around inside his mouth and pulled out two pieces, but the real disturbing news is that the pieces I pulled out didn’t look big enough to fill in the hole in my grocery list. We’ll see if tomorrow’s diaper brings me the rest of my grocery list.
The number one sign your kids are just borrowing your faith is that they rarely, if ever, ask questions.
I read that in this article and felt shame at the times I’ve sighed when the questions won’t end. Then there are the times we still laugh about like when Wyatt asked me how we will get up in the sky to meet Jesus. I was trying to navigate my mountain road and so said the first thing that popped into my head: “Well, we’ll float up there.”
Then in a disturbed tone, he replies: “But there’s no water!”
Oh right. Next I tried “fly”, but that brought on that we don’t have wings. I seriously need to brush up on my Scripture before I completely confuse the poor child.
Okay, I’ve sat here too long as it is typing these random thoughts. Moving date is March 8, Lord willing. And I need to get busy!
Till the next “Dear Diary” . . .