Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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my heart goes out

My husband does not know this yet, but he gave me the best Christmas gift a month early, way back at Thanksgiving. A day or two after the big family feast, he said rather off-handedly, “You did good, babe. It really felt like Thanksgiving.”

We have been married fourteen years, and these last few have brought unprecedented fundamental changes, scary ones. Maintaining sanity and a sense of ongoing joy has been challenging at times, especially at the holidays. So what he said was probably the very best compliment he could have paid to me at that moment. An excellent early Christmas gift.

thanksgiving family photo

I probably don’t need to expound on the idea that as adults it’s the feeling of the holidays we’re chasing, even as we busy ourselves with traditions old and new. We are all trying to summon the best of childhood, the best of our imprinted ideals, the best of everything for our most precious people. It’s not just that we want certain stuff or foods; it’s that we all want to feel a certain way, and we have learned rituals to help us capture those feelings.

gen nieces cookies

So we cook, decorate, shop, and prepare for the holidays. Maybe we berate each other too much for putting so much energy into this. So many guilt trips about materialism and excess. There is a middle ground, right? Everybody wants to eat, enjoy, remember, and live again those most prized feelings. We want so much to keep them going, alive, moving though the generations. I keep thinking of the Olympic torch, you know? The opportunity and responsibility of passing along the flame, not allowing it to go out for lack of trying or because of outside quenching conditions.

This is a hard holiday for lots of people near and dear to us.

My heart goes out this Christmas. To so many people, in so many ways.

I miss our two girls differently and viciously. I ache deeply for our friend Jeff who lost his Mom just a few days ago. I am sad for my own parents who are coping with hardship in the generations both ahead of and below them. I cannot move through any holiday tradition without hurting for my husband whose childhood family will never be the same again.

christmas comet

cookies

JOY

 

And still so much joy! Still so many reasons to be more than happy… Hundreds of reasons to be truly, brightly grateful, both in childlike ways and in very adult, wise, lasting ways too. My heart goes out to so many people, maybe because life, despite life, is rich enough to nourish us, fatten us up and make our hearts big enough to share with each other. We are overwhelmingly blessed.

I hope that making it really feel like Thanksgiving carries over into our Christmas. And then into every important thing we need afterwards, in the new year.

I hope that whatever is going on in your life, whether it’s hardship or bliss, abundance or leanness, or maybe acute, terrifying grief, that you are able to feel the most important things. Fill your heart to the brim with gratitude. Accept Love when it is offered. Be connected.

Let your heart go out. Do not feel guilty about chasing traditions if they help you keep those best feelings alive.

klaus santa

Thank you for your early gift, Handsome. It was perfect. But yes I still want to open everything wrapped up under the tree. : )

Friends, thank you for stopping here to read! The Lazy W wishes you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

minted card 2015

XOXOXOXO

unbridled joy and easy gratitude

Ahhh November, the month of thankfulness. The season of expressing gratitude and counting our blessings, of celebrating the gifts in our life.

Over these past few years I have shared with you guys stuff I’ve learned (reluctantly at times) about the muscles of gratitude, about the importance of showing our thankfulness even when we aren’t really feeling it and about how that discipline can get you to a brighter place. I believe deep down in my bones that the purposeful, conscious act of choosing joy is vital to our temporary well-being and infinitely beneficial to our long-term spiritual health. I also believe that your choice to see the good in life becomes your pulse, gradually, and that over time you cannot help but feel drawn to the brightest of everything and even learn to overlook the dark. So often in life, after all, we are clouded by worry or surrounded by grief and joy does not come naturally.

autumn ivy

And then sometimes joy comes very naturally.

Sometimes life surprises us with wave after wave of unbridled joy. Do you ever feel so happy and giddy that you look around to see if anyone else is feeling it, too? Almost like you need someone else to be similarly caught up in your elation in order for it to be real, or for you to feel okay about it? Especially when huge oceans of grief seem to be swallowing the globe, or swallowing our friends, it can feel self-indulgent to just be really happy about life.

Sometimes you just feel so great that you simply want to share it.

Things are looking up for us, friends. In three or four million different ways. Handsome and I still have normal problems like everybody else, and we always will. Some of them are pretty serious, actually. But we have better perspective than ever. The seasons of grief and waiting have taught us all those important lessons about gratitude and humility, upward gaze and steady breath. Now the unbridled joy is building strength. I find myself grinning for no reason at all. For every reason. At this point, giving up on those yet unanswered prayers would be so ridiculous. We have more evidence than ever that miracles are real. That faith counts. That grateful hearts are receptive to the best gifts.

frosty roses

frosty pots

We woke up to a beautiful, magical, frosty farm. We have in front of us just as much play as work. Our blessings are easy to count. Thanksgiving week at the Lazy W is starting with a big swell of energy and Love, and we want to share it.

“Gratitude is the healthiest of all human emotions.
The more you express gratitude for what you have,
the more likely you will have even more to express gratitude for.”
~Zig Ziglar
XOXOXOXO

letting go, change is good, and a waterfall in africa

After twenty one years of motherhood (I am being generous here and including the pregnancy months), I have reached the conclusion that our children’s life stages have more to do with us, the parents, being ready to let go than with our children being ready to move on. Yes, of course there is the preparation and the skill set building. The growth and the strengthening. But I believe it is harder on us for them to leave than the other way around. Our instincts are all wired for this, so it has to be true. That is my thesis statement, and I am sticking to it.

She left in March, remember? And I thought she would be home by September and we would get back to our shopping and our cooking lessons. I thought we would be talking about college perhaps or who knows what, just here in Oklahoma, haha. She did come home, of course, but only for a week around her birthday. And she brought a boy. The same sweet boy I met when I visited her in June. And then they were gone again. And now she is off pursuing her own joy and blazing her own trails. Feathering her own nest, as nature commands.

I snapped this at the peak of Old Man, moments after the three of us reached it. These two led the way that day. They pointed out the footholds. They laughed and ran and climbed and worried for me and encouraged me. Quite an amazing little role reversal on a gorgeous mountain in Colorado. I will never in my life forget this day. xoxo
I snapped this at the peak of Old Man in Estes Park, moments after the three of us reached it. It was quite a little rock scramble. These two led the way that day. They pointed out the footholds. They laughed and ran and climbed and worried for me and encouraged me. It was an amazing, loving little role reversal on a gorgeous mountain in Colorado. I will never in my life forget this day. xoxo

I have had a different idea of how things might go, but that has been true since the beginning. Since before she was born. And you know what? No matter how different the details have been, it all has been pretty wonderful. In so many ways, life has been far better than how I would have designed it all by myself.

Which is not to say that my deepest wishes and wildest imaginations have been neglected. Not by a long shot. Plenty of the visions I had before she was born have come to fruition. And looking back over the past 15 years, especially just these past 15 months, I can say with a trembling sort of confidence that our prayers are always being heard. So make them really, really good but keep an open heart about what else might happen.

Without a doubt, life is big and beautiful and full of amazing surprises, and life goes on even when we are quite off course from where we expected to be.

For these reasons I am no longer really afraid of change. So many surprises in life just turn out for the best. I occasionally get nostalgic for the past, or for the unfulfilled longings of motherhood or just life in general, but I try not to nurse those wounds too much. Instead, I just acknowledge the feelings then actively focus on the blessings right in front of me. When I compare those little losses to the big, miraculous ways life has actually been happening? It is amazing. It is just unreal how much God leads and guides and protects us, despite ourselves.

Let’s rephrase this to be a little more real, a little less preachy:

It is amazing how much God has been leading and guiding and directing my life and protecting me, despite my mistakes. Despite my shortcomings. Despite my failures and weaknesses. It is amazing how generous He has been with my prayer requests, despite my worrying mind.

A friend once posed this question: What if all of your dreams came true? What you got every single one of your wishes? 

A big reason I am no longer really afraid of change is that the Universe seems to have so much better in store than what I have been asking of it. Letting go is difficult, and change sometimes hurts for a while, but thank goodness for the explosion of growth. Thank goodness for the renewal available to us all the time, if we choose it. Thank goodness for all those thrilling surprise blessings that we didn’t even know were possible.

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For the past few nights I have fallen asleep listening to the most luscious program about the extreme corners of the earth and the people and animals who survive there. It has been a soothing and stimulating way to fill and empty my brain before rest. One segment was about the Zambezi River and Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. These are the largest waterfalls in the world, and they are stunning.

(photo credit to http://victoriafallstourism.org/victoria-falls-photos/)
(photo credit to http://victoriafallstourism.org/victoria-falls-photos/)

The world is full of awe-inspiring natural wonders, and if you loved your journey through Africa, Australia is another captivating destination to explore. Its diverse landscapes, from vibrant coral reefs to vast deserts, offer unique experiences for every traveler. A journey through the country’s rugged terrain reveals a world of surprises, like the majestic Blue Mountains Waterfalls, where cascading waters create a tranquil ambiance amidst the dramatic cliffs. The area is rich in ancient rainforests and indigenous history, making it a perfect blend of natural beauty and cultural depth.

What got my attention even more than the sight is the geological history. The falls empty into a deep, wide gorge which didn’t exist before a diverted flow of the river eroded the rock there. The rock just collapsed, and the wide, powerful river followed. I cannot remember exactly how the narrator phrased this long process, but it churned my heart up.

Water. Just water, in its natural state, moving energetically and following its own path and purpose, over time dramatically altered the face of the earth. And then it kept on being water and was, one day, this magnificent, complex, dangerous and beautiful waterfall.

The original river must have been beautiful enough. But what if we had never seen this waterfall?

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My Dad has always joked that once a baby learns to walk, it’s all over. He’s right. And with this joke he is gently acknowledging that this new skill opens up the world to that baby, including Colorado Rocky Mountains and waterfalls in Zimbabwe.

So, yes- change is okay. Change is good. Roll with it. Let your children go when the time comes. Trust that Love has both you and them in a firm, safe grip. Abandon control and “shoulds” a little bit and watch for amazing surprises along the way. And pray always. Persistently. Be like that river and change the face of the earth with your prayers.

Wishing you all the very best surprises life has to offer.
XOXOXOXO

mud monsters & pain management

In barely any time at all the middle field was slicked down, shiny wet and marshy. I looked down and saw the shattered concrete growing moss right before my eyes, chartreuse and emerald blooms and billows exaggerated in a time lapse that stunned me into fresh tears. The Signature of All Things echoing echoing echoing.

Toward the willow tree rainwater ran downhill, washing away all the day’s good intentions but also a hefty measure of regret. Fair exchange.

trough c

Then the curtain of rain pulled away and revealed filmy, wavering images of my girls splashing in the mud and wearing both t-shirts and sundresses, galoshes and ball caps, my husband’s green soccer jersey from his own childhood. My little Mud Monsters, shrieking and giggling at the sky, braiding their skinny arms together, knowing their mother was watching but not knowing then that she’d never forget that moment. They clawed at the air with their pink and olive Mud Monster hands and bared their pearly white baby teeth and smiled at me then disappeared with that same wavering, filmy trick.

The wind was weirdly absent during this rain and I needed it to sweep my thoughts away. Desperately needed it to comb through my troubled brain. I craved a storm instead of such a terrible, gentle shower and walked to the barn hoping for some tin-roof white noise. It  smelled like horses and hay and ozone. The cats twirled my blue jean-covered legs. One reluctant clap of thunder.

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Sometimes people tell us to count our blessings, it could always be worse. True enough. Other people say, pain is pain, no one has a right to measure one pain against another. Also true.

Sending lots of love to all my friends who are hurting tonight, for any reason. The sun will shine bright and true again, in its own time. Rain has its place. Let it fall. Let it nourish you.

XOXOXOXO

 

 

people and a vision

Yesterday afternoon Handsome and I spent some time working at the church. It was just the two of us, and we had a short list of tasks we wanted to accomplish. But something unexpected happened that caused me to take a long, hard look at my own heart. I walked away feeling very different. Changed. Which is what church is supposed to do for us, right? Even if it’s just a work day?

Let me briefly set the stage by explaining that for us in this season of life, “church” is an elusive concept. It probably doesn’t resemble anything you normally think of when you hear the word. Just being at the building can produce emotions ranging from joy to anger, wistful melancholy, frustration, loneliness, bitterness, and then, either out of the blue or with some effort, bubbling hope. Overwhelming excitement for the future. Going to church is far from a mechanical weekend ritual for us right now. And I suppose that’s a good thing. God is speaking to us in unprecedented ways, almost randomly, with all the tradition and habit, all the human distraction, stripped away.

Okay.

The day was mild. Warmish-cool with abundant sunshine, wide open blue skies, and a ticklish breeze. As we unloaded borrowed wedding tables and began mowing and weed eating the lawns, I was in one of the bitter moments. I had to consciously push negative thoughts out of my mind, and then I remembered the lessons about not resisting so much as replacing, so I fished for images that would inspire me. Images like a north-facing flower bed overflowing with fall blooms, a freshly painted church kitchen fragrant with the meals we hope to provide soon, and music streaming through open doors. I tried really hard to conjure up an idea of how things could be for us here. I gave thanks for all the miracles that have been poured out after prayers were said here. Because this mental tactic always works, my attitude gradually improved, and my energy increased. Then we got a visitor.

The elderly, retired pastor from the church directly across the street walked over and struck up a conversation with Handsome. He was there on a Saturday with the statewide conference for his denomination. They are long time acquaintances, these two families, and it’s good for them to reconnect. But the gentleman doesn’t really know what has been happening in our family since we lost Judy, only that we obviously are not having Sunday morning services right now. This begs lots of obvious questions.

My husband navigated the conversation with grace, I could sense this every time I passed the pair of men, but I knew he was being economical with his words. Careful not to plumb too deep into painful waters. Instead of stopping to join the chat like I normally would do, I continued working. Sort of rebelliously, to make a point. As the friendly moment turned into five minutes, then ten, then thirty, I grew increasingly frustrated. Handsome was being held up which meant that our stay would be longer and longer, no matter how much I accomplished on my own. My reverie about a healthy, fruitful church community was being eroded by all the things I wanted to be doing at the farm, all the fun ways I craved to spend our weekend. I felt more and more resentful about this interruption to our Saturday, about the fact that no one else is here to help us, about how alone we feel most of the time. It was a pretty gross downward spiral. I am good at those.

And of course, this perfectly wonderful elderly gentleman did what lots of men this age do, he repeated himself extensively. Most of the conversation was just him saying the same things over and over again, not really listening to his audience at all. Handsome nodded affectionately a lot, offered bits of answers when the man asked the same question over and over. You know. But I was impatient. I cannot stand for people to waste my time.

Friends, if that sounds really ugly to you just reading it, know that as soon as I registered this thought in my own mind I felt sick to my stomach. I am really ashamed to have even allowed the thought, but I’m sharing it now because it’s a big part of the story. I guess it’s also my confession.

So as the time passed and I forced myself to reign in frustration and bitterness, control my emotions better, God allowed me to hear a very important slice of their conversation. I abandoned most of my bad attitude and walked up to the men at just the perfect moment.

The elderly retired pastor and my husband had been sharing ideas of the two communities’ hopes and dreams for the future. How might we serve the neighborhood? Are we moving into the future according to God’s will? Beautiful stuff. Stuff totally worth some time on Saturday afternoon, despite the younger man’s selfish, hurried wife. Then I heard it, the quotable thing.

The elderly pastor was joking about how a church needs people, willing workers who can sacrifice time as well as money. Very much to myself I had a series of snarky thoughts on this subject. All I said aloud was, “Yes, time is the hardest thing to sacrifice sometimes.” Handsome and I made eye contact. He gave me a half smile and weary eyes. He knew exactly what I meant and is normally even more greedy with his time than I was in this moment. But at church, this is his rodeo, his traumatic healing more than mine. I backed down.

Then we pan back to the elderly retired pastor:

“The Bible says without a vision the people are lost. And then I say with the people a vision is lost!”

He have a long round of generous, warm hearted laughter then we joined him. He cannot have known how much I needed the exact combination of his bold speech and loving tone. Humor delivers hard things so well, right?

It sank into me rapidly. Musically, almost. Is it that instant for you? Without the people a vision is lost. It’s not scripture; it’s just one man’s inspired moment or bit of humor or something. But it does point back to scripture. Back to the New Testament lessons about the church being the hands and the feet of Christ. Willing workers giving of ourselves to act out His love on earth. And if our current situation “at church,” air quotes because it’s such an elusive concept right now, isn’t an example of how much we need this, I just don’t know what is. We have so many hopes and dreams for how things could be, how much help we could provide, but how will we do it?

The end of yesterday’s story is happy. We traded so many loving words with the man, this old friend of Handsome’s family, and reaffirmed our intention to both stay in touch and help each other along the way. Handsome finished his jobs and I finished mine, then we loaded up to leave right on time. Despite the very inconvenient interruption to my very selfish Saturday, it’s as if no extra time had passed. That’s how God works sometimes. He can literally stretch the moments and fill them with exactly what you need.

As for the question of how will we do it? The answer is: One work day at a time, with consistent obedience and more humility. If the vision is sound, the right people will cross our path. Or we will do it alone.

Maybe instead of focusing on who is no longer here, I need to acknowledge that we are being called here still. We count. We can do hard things, worthwhile things, and maybe without us a vision will be lost. Maybe that? Or maybe, keep the vision and the people will come. Maybe that?

2 chairs

Now I sound like The Field of Dreams. Sorry friends. haha But thank you for listening. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings to sort out. Thanks for joining us here and sending goodness and love! I am amazed at how God walks us through these seasons of life.

“She will hold his hand and tell him 
God is proud of him for being a good boy on his birthday,
and that will make the world feel right side up again.”
~Mitch Albom,
The Five People You Meet in Heaven
XOXOXOXO