Lazy W Marie

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

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Archives for December 2021

a happy, messy look back at 2021

Closing out the year 2021, I feel maybe more wide-eyed and open-hearted than ever in my life, which is wonderful. I also feel a bit weirded out by how quickly time has been passing. Lots of my friends feel this way, too, about the speeding clock, and theories abound about why this is happening. Whatever the reasons, our days and months seem to be gaining momentum. In the New Year, my remedy for this sensation will be to schedule in more free time, more protected white space for play and spontaneity, and more rest days that I can redeem however I need to at that time, trusting in my overall work product. Trusting that life can and should contain more wiggle room.

Looking back over the past twelve months, I am in awe of all the hard work and dazzled by all of the intense Love. I am deeply grateful for the relief sent our way, for the grace supplied to handle difficulties we have never handled before, and for the fresh inspiration. I feel a gorgeous weaving together of sincere effort and desire, and it is thrilling.

As last year began, we spent time with Handsome’s cousin, Shane, and his beautiful little family, while they were in Oklahoma to bury Shane’s dad, Wes. It was a profoundly sad time but a happy reunion too, and we were thankful everyone was healthy and safe enough to be together. During their stay, Oklahoma was blanketed by snow and the farm was without power for several days, so that was definitely a memory maker! We did our best to cling to New Year’s Eve traditions and have fun outdoors when possible, and we just covered each other in love.

During that visit, while cooking dinner for the group, I received a phone call from Jessica that changed everything. She and Alex had just decided to get married! The engagement was no surprise to us, but their timeline was: They set a date exactly two weeks from the date of that phone call, ha! So we were thrown immediately into some of the most joyful, also the most feverish, most love-drenched planning and farm beautification days ever. Jessica and Alex were the picture of young love and true, warm-hearted family love. They deserve the world. As I type this, these lovebirds are fast approaching their first anniversary!

Handsome and his team at the Public Utilities Division made history with their unrelenting work and fierce, talented attention during Oklahoma’s Polar Vortex and all of the precipitating (no pun intended) energy crises. It was a long, cold, challenging season for them, and I am so proud. He coined the saying, “We’ll keep them alive today so they can hate us tomorrow,” and my smart husband got to be on television press conferences with Oklahoma’s favorite ASL translator. Who remembers this guy?? He was amazing.

We celebrated Easter outdoors with our local family!! The tulips and daffodils were blooming, the sun emerged with extra early heat, and everyone brought their pups. I remember feeling hope for normalcy, something even bigger than the seasonal dose of excitement springtime delivers.

Eventually vaccines rolled out, and we were thankful to partake. Beyond thankful for our health and our family’s health, thankful for the preservation of life so far. We know intimately that not everyone has been so lucky.

Sometime during the warm months last year, I cannot remember exactly when, we finally met some longtime neighbors and struck up a new friendship. Rex and Cathy live down the road from us, and their German shepherd (Max) is a neighborhood celebrity. It was with the excuse that Max and Klaus become buddies that we started talking, and soon enough we all just clicked. It turns out that their (now grown) daughter grew up as best friends with the little girl who grew up here, in our house at the Lazy W (but long before it was the Lazy W, ha)! Rex and Cathy have quickly become two of our favorite people. A very happy development this year.

If I look back on the gardening year of 2021, I will remember mostly flowers. Lots of different lilies, hydrangeas, zinnias and marigolds of course, some sunflowers, shady beds full of soft impatiens, blooming sage, and even roses. Gosh so many roses! I will also remember the castor bean plants that my running friend Mike gifted us in the form of bizarre, prickly, sappy little seed pods. The plants are ultimately sky-scraping, elegant monsters. I will also remember the okra. Oh good grief, those plants produced three times per day all summer long! Okra and tomatoes were the bulk of our little farm’s food production this year. My focus was more on flowers, to make sure we had lots of bouquets for our vow renewal. It was a fun diversion, but I’ll get back to food in 2022.

2021 was the year that we almost lost Rick Astlee, the bully duck, thanks to an attack by Johnny Cash, the bully goose; but Rick convalesced in our bathtub for two weeks and survived to enjoy a happy summer with his guide duck, Mike Meyers Lemon. Klaus was enraptured, and we were relieved. It was also this year that our chickens enjoyed a free range experiment, which we will repeat after winter, once I have figured out how to protect my gardens better.

In spring, Lady Marigold celebrated her first year with us. She has grow daily into a bossy little hand-fed, spoiled rotten, circle-zooming miss fancy pants. We lubb her.

Our nieces and nephews insist on growing up. Chloe has her driver’s license? Connor is speaking Spanish??

Our own beautiful kids are healing and growing in their own ways, both with and without us, proving that we are only vessels or conduits for God’s Love, not the source. He is always the Source.

We learned so much about friendship and family and social evolution, about teamwork and thriving in harmony. Community has taken on new and deeper meaning, as I know many of you will agree.

We celebrated out twentieth wedding anniversary with an outdoor vow renewal, which was definitely postponed once and almost postponed twice, for monsoon-level rainstorms! We were surrounded by friends and family and could not have felt happier or more in love.

Not much travel this past year, despite having tried. Three good trips were all cancelled at the last minute due to covid outbreaks or upswings, but we barely pouted at all. It seems like life at home, on this farm, with each other, has become so nourishing and relaxing that we recharge just fine, right here. We did make one quick getaway to the Palo Duro Canyon area in the panhandle of Texas, which was absolutely enchanting. We enjoyed that quick visit so much, we intend to make a longer adventure of it soon. Rent a cabin, go for long hikes, pack our own groceries to cook, have some no-cell-service kind of romance. We love that it’s a Klaus-friendly trip.

All the hardscape improvements we made to the farm during the first year of pandemic have held up, and this year I think we mostly just added gravel. Lots and lots of gravel, ha! We also bought a zero-turn-radius riding lawn mower, which makes life so much easier. We also hosted the Master Gardeners for a second time at the end of summer, also nearly derailed by a freakish monsoon, but gosh that turned out to be a wonderful memory maker too.

The fifth annual Lazy W Talent Show was a huge success! We hosted it in October and called it “Fright Night,” and everyone brought the Halloween vibes! So much fun. That will go down in history for us.

Mom and Dad hosted Thanksgiving this year, and Gen was in town, wahoo! We were missing Jocelyn, Dante and Deaven, and Joe and Halee and their magical boys (stationed in Spain right now). But we ate their share of turkey and pecan pie and stayed fixed in gratitude for everything and everyone. I will remember Thanksgiving Week 2021 as one especially full of games and laughter, team efforts and shimmering affection for each other.

Christmas was overall the quietest holiday of the year, and honestly we needed it to be that way. It felt restful and intimate, and it gave us time to just soak up Jess and her beautiful little family, and we slept a lot that weekend. My heart has felt comforted and joyful, just as the carol offers.

I ran one speck less than 2,121 miles this year, which means absolutely nothing except that I stayed healthy and consistent, uninjured and very happy, and overall a bit stronger thanks to more regular gym days. I have actual running goals for 2022, wahoo!

Of course there have been heartaches, there always are, and there always will be. But I feel content. Well seasoned. I feel good despite the hard times, or maybe in part because of them. God has grown us so much this year.

Happy New Year, friends. I hope your pain is eased and your joy is rekindled. I hope your faith is stronger than ever. And I hope your dreams begin to come true right before your wide open eyes.

“Open yourself to every possibility,
for there is nothing your heart can imagine
that is not so.”
~This Tender Land,
William Kent Kreuger
XOXOXOXO

and just like that…

Just now while doing breakfast chores, I was praying for Jocelyn and something wonderful happened.

((an old photo of the boys with fresh hay…xoxo))

For several days I have been aggressively and tediously flaking hay for the bachelors from what is perhaps the most tightly wound large bale I have ever seen in my life. It is also wrapped in not wire, not netting, but twine, and lots and lots of it. It’s like a five year old wrapped a gift with cheap tape. The blue nylon twine is buried and criss-crossed in deep crevices throughout the hay, making the already tight spiral of tangled dry grass nearly impossible to loosen neatly. Every day is a slow unraveling task. Chipping and shredding, really. Generally this task is kind of fun, actually, I’m not complaining. Raking hay can be therapeutic, like collecting manure for compost or pulling weeds. It’s a repetitive motion and gentle physical exertion that makes it easy to get lost in thought, or prayer. But the twine has been a frustrating block.

So today I was chipping away, flaking off small, not pretty, tufts of hay to slowly collect into heaps for the boys’ breakfast, praying for Jocelyn. Praying for her to remember the best moments between us, from childhood to Colorado and everything in between. Praying for her to feel needed and appreciated and valued, to feel safe and warm when she thinks of home, to separate trauma and fact and fiction, to resist and replace the brainwashing, to grow whatever seeds of love and hope and health are in her heart. I swung my straight metal rake again and again, and suddenly the tines caught another strong, skinny bit of blue twine. So I stopped to cut it apart. (So much twine you guys.)

As soon as my scissors snapped the twine, it popped apart like a champagne cork! And a thick, fluffy, luxurious band of soft hay collapsed at my feet. I don’t know if you have ever felt that, the release of more hay than you needed, but it is wonderful. Hay falling at my feet is one of my favorite sensations, maybe because it is so clearly proof of lushness and abundance. Every day I hope it will happen, but as you might imagine, this particular large bale has been stingy with the magic.

Anyway, today it did happen. I couldn’t believe how much gorgeous, sweet smelling hay was being trapped by a single strand of blue nylon twine. It really doesn’t make sense. It hit my very cold toes (three cheers for wearing flip flops in December), and I stared at the now very lopsided large bale. Then I collected the food into my big green basket and called Chanta, Dusty, and Meh over to feast.

It hit my heart that God has worked this way in my life over and over again.

He has many times released fears or shame or toxic relationships, or simply erroneous thinking, in one powerful godly breath, thereby triggering cascades of goodness in my life.

And He can do this with my girl, too. He can release her from everything in one moment. All that goodness in her life can cascade again with the snapping apart of one lie or one dark thought or one influence or one circumstance. She feels far away but also very close right now. I hope that the blue nylon twines keeping her bound up are snapped away gradually, gradually, then all at once. She deserves absolute freedom.

((a very happy day on my first trip to visit her in Colorado))

I feel momentum building and a deep peace growing. Thank you so much for your love and continued prayers. Please let me know how we can be praying for you too! Tell me what blue twine needs cutting, so the hay can fall thickly at your feet.

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,
saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil,
to give you an expected end.”
Jeremiah 29:11
XOXOXO

let them kick their own shells apart & the pink neon sign

Oooff, here we go.

Maybe you have heard rumors about the girls, about the family, about what has been happening. Maybe you hold enough insight to understand how to pray, or enough peripheral knowledge over the past two decades to sense that the story is dark and complex and mostly not available for public consumption. Maybe you are insatiably curious or fearful about your own children and think you just need to know (that’s ok, maybe message me privately). Maybe you simply love our girls or us or others in the situation and just wish it could all finally end (so do we).

I have only shared bits and pieces here over the years, and usually either the best news or the most urgent prayer request. A small group of close friends has prayed with us over time, and my parents and sisters have helped carry much of the emotional burden, knowing only some of what’s going on. Mom and Dad bravely walked alongside us through the final chapter in Colorado. But no one knows it all, not even us, except God.

Even now, a few years after reuniting with Jessica and several years after Jocelyn’s first homecoming, I continue to learn more and more of the horrific truth.

Here is what I know, the high points of what is difficult to accept:

Both Jocelyn and Jessica were abused mentally and physically for years, and they were isolated away from me and my family and, gradually, from anyone who might threaten to shed light on the truth. They were spoon-fed lies and held up as lifestyle ornaments and used as tools to hurt us, all the while being viscously mistreated and hidden in the dark. Both of my girls were young children when it started, and I look back now on the red flags I saw then and want to scream for people to see those with me, as if seeing them in hindsight gives us a second chance to prevent what followed.

The years we were alienated were a particular kind of torture for me as a mother, but I had no idea what my girls were enduring. The circle of people who exacted and allowed the abuse on them is unbelievable, and the lies that were told and psychological games that were played to cover it up are even more elaborate and twisted than I suspected.

As adults in the summer of 2020, they both were just beginning to emerge from their own horrifically dark chapters, just beginning to heal, when their dad closed a long chapter of addiction and committed suicide. The months since that event have been bizarre and excruciating for everyone, but especially for them.

Here is more of what I know, the root and the truth and what I cling to:

God, the God of Love and truth and absolute light, still reigns over all this darkness. Even as we peel back more and more layers of depravity and pain, of sickness and addiction and narcissism, God is in control. He offers not only safety and relief but also transformation. He offers perfect healing and redemption. By trusting in Him (which also means trusting in and obeying His ways, however tempted I am to seek revenge on my own), we have the gift of wholeness, wholeness as people and wholeness as a family. By choosing to trust in Him we deliberately extract ourselves from the cycle of evil and the systemic poison of human vengeance. Maybe I cannot undo what has been done to my babies, who are now women, but I can guarantee I never play a part in it or throw gasoline on an already consuming fire.

And yes, to be clear and honest, I have fought for months against the urge to make a few effective phone calls, to injure two women in particular and to humiliate those who have spread lies or gossiped about my children (what kind of person gossips about a child in trauma?). I even sometimes want to hurt people who didn’t believe me when I sought help all those years ago, because I have felt that their unwillingness to get involved perpetuated so much pain. I have taken great pains to bite my tongue and edit conversation about people who still bear an influence over my girls, because for two decades we have lived by the belief that badmouthing other family members is not how we want to operate.  At ages 24 and 26, they now can decide for themselves. They both are free enough to make their own choices (even when those choices hurt), draw their own boundaries, and eventually see for themselves why I have made my choices the way I have.

Something else I know, something I have learned through lots of weak moments:

I can easily make the mistake of surrendering my hard earned freedom from that kind of reality, from that poisoned community, by allowing too much anger to simmer in my heart. I can squander away the hours of my beautiful, warm, glittering life by dwelling on a few pointless daydreams: What might have been had the abuse never started, how things might have been different in Colorado had I known more then (Jocelyn was so protective of her little sister while Jessica still lived in that household), and how good it would feel to publicly and legally seek vengeance. These, and maybe a few others, are useless fantasies. They waste my energy, too, and trespass on God’s territory.

What matters now is moving forward in Love, every step of the way, and trusting that all our prayers, through all these years, are still alive. Believing that addiction is absolutely overcomable. Affirming to each other that these relationships are founded in blood and bedrock, and they may be shaken but are not destroyed. What matters now is being strong and healthy and ready for anything, prepared physically and emotionally for Jocelyn’s next homecoming. Remaining stable and lively for Jessica, as she continues to heal and build her own beautiful, warm, glittering life with Alex.

A few days ago I was lost in prayer for Jocelyn and Jessica, and something wonderful happened. I heard myself petitioning on their behalf, telling God all the amazing things I see in them, their talents and their beauty, their tenderheartedness, the way Jocelyn has always stood up for the underdog, for kids being bullied (all the while being bullied herself), for Jessica’s spiritual depth, for their passions and energy and love of nature, telling Him about their youth and potential and how much we want them to thrive and be free, just on and on, bragging about them. I was basically trying to convince the Creator of the Universe of the goodness of two of His own creations. Hoping to sway Him to help my babies, deliver them more quickly from this awfulness.

He stopped me mid-prayer and showed me in all capital letters, bold and in neon pink lights, “THEY WERE MINE BEFORE THEY WERE YOURS.”

Ooof. Wow! Ok, yes, yes I know, I know, I’m sorry! Ha!

It was a firm (all caps) but gentle (neon pink) reprimand. I may say I trust God, but me begging Him doesn’t demonstrate much trust. It reveals desperation.

God loves them more than I ever have and ever could. God has better understanding of what they have endured all these years, and no secrets are kept from Him. God has a wider, more spectacular vision for the future. He has all the resources for their healing and their new foundations. He can stream as much of that through me as He wishes, or through other people, but He is always the Source.

It’s always been Him. It’s always been Love.

Okay, friends, I hope that if you needed a boost that God is still omnipotent and omniscient, this helps you. I hope that you can laugh at yourself a bit, like I was invited to do, ha! And I certainly ask for your continued prayers. Knowing more of the truth has been hard. It has challenged me to really live by what I say is important, really tested my ability to be peaceful and calm. (Maternal rage is real.) It has also opened my heart, though, and helped me understand why some chapters have been so agonizing and lengthy. And learning more of the truth, slowly, has given me a chance to unravel for myself so many years of lies and manipulations, of brainwashing and psychological abuse. I have needed that, too.

One more thing:

Remember (and remind me if you think I need it) the story about hatching little peeps:

If the shell is cracked but the chick is struggling to emerge, resist the urge to open it by hand and free her quickly. Be patient and let her work, or else her legs won’t be strong enough to even walk, and she will perish. It is the act of rebelling, of kicking open her little eggshell, that gives her the strength to live.

XOXOXOXO

JOY WEEK and Christmas Eve!!

Hey friends, Merry Christmas Eve! I missed writing to you guys about JOY week for Advent. If you have a minute, my heart is thrumming.

This photo represents one of the most incredible Christmas surprises to date.
I cannot wait to share this hilarious story!

Have you been celebrating Advent, either traditionally or in your own special way? I love a mix of the two. There is always a place for tradition, and there is also a need for making traditions very personal, for infusing everything we do with purpose and meaning. With personality! After all, the only traditions that really stick are the ones we make our own, the ones that serve us with the most authentic JOY. So dig in and be honest about how you want the holidays to be. Less obligation, more intention.

The last few weeks, I have been soaking up a magical rhythm of quiet time, reflection, and journaling, some very average farm chores and housework (soothing, you know), mixed with wild holiday activity, old songs and new understandings, lights and decorations, baking (so much baking), swimming in memories, time with friends, romance… Just keeping the current of life alive. We are all moving through time together, and I am here for it, as the kids say.

Joy is one of my favorite topics. A few years ago, you might remember, my husband started receiving this persistent message, “Count it all joy.” It became our mantra in a dark valley, and we have learned so much about it since then. Counting It All Joy is a post I wrote in 2017, when it was all fresh.

Joy has nourished us when we were tired and needed strength; it has floated gently us when we might have succumbed to grief; and joy has inspired us to build brand new things in our life. Joy changes everything. It’s the secret sauce.

How wonderful to learn that there are some ways to manufacture Joy, when it seems scarce or completely unavailable.

Have you ever tried a Joy Dare? I think Ann Voskamp first shared this idea. Find one of her templates, or better yet, make your own. Grab a notebook, have a list of prompts ready, then see how many days it takes you to journal one thousand expressions of joy. Last week I sat down to write out just a few thought prompts of my own and quickly listed 77 separate ways to count my own joy. Each of those immediately flowers into dozens of actual blessings in my life. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Joy comes to us and moves between us in such a variety of flavors and textures, it’s thrilling to articulate it all. And the act of taking stock is so empowering.

Also, learn what others have experienced. For reading material, I cannot fervently enough recommend The Book of Joy. Have you found it yet? We gobbled it up a couple of winters ago with a small group of friends, and we all gained so much from the material and from the subsequent conversations. It’s packed with wisdom and encouragement form Archbishop Desmond Tutu and His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The stories they share, the deep study, the timeless human-nature-wisdom and advice for good living, it’s all just priceless. Give it some time soon, if you haven’t already.*

Have you read The Book of Joy yet?

The 8 Pillars of Joy According to the Dalai-Lama

  • Perspective
  • Humility
  • Humor
  • Acceptance
  • Forgiveness
  • Gratitude
  • Compassion
  • Generosity

Some of my favorite Christmas carols are all about joy, and this past week I have been reflecting on the lyrics more deeply. Sing the songs that make you cry and laugh, get your family to sing with you, play the best music in your home while you work. There’s something about good music that we are designed to receive. Buddy the Elf was onto something.

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her king!

Let every heart prepare Him room,

And Heaven and nature sing

xoxoxoxo

I love how much God wants us to experience joy! He loves us so much! What He wants is for us to be joyful. We are repeatedly invited to rejoice. Re-joy ourselves and each other. It’s something we can do, not just something we occasionally, when we feel lucky, happen to notice. And then it an also be a total surprise! Of course our joy tanks can be depleted from time to time, but we can refill them. We can choose joy. We can walk the paths that pursue joy and allow it to flow generously for everyone.

I have learned that choosing joy is about a lot more than just looking on the bright side or finding the silver lining. It is that, but it is also deliberately living in whatever way cultivates the best life, the best reflection of Love, for the most people, day after day after average day, not just on holidays or for show. Choosing joy is an ongoing pattern of living that keeps us in alignment with Him.

Two more old blog posts about JOY:

A Different Mustard Seed Parable

Fractals Again, Joy Beyond Imagination, and Love

Okay, something amazing happened last week that I need to share. But it is a long story. It might need to be written in three or four chapters, so stay tuned. See the above photo.

For now, may all the details of your Christmas Eve be glowy and warm, centered in Love, steeped in just the right amount of tradition, and infused with your authentic personality. I am so excited to spend some quiet time with my own little family tomorrow. We are wildly thankful to be celebrating this Christmas in our own simple, joyful ways.

“Therefore being justified by faith,
We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:
By whom also we have access by faith
into this grace wherein we stand,
and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.”
Romans 5:1
XOXOXO

* Side note: The co-author Douglas Abrams has now co-authored another book, this time with the much loved Jane Goodall. The Book of Hope is newly released, and the Lazy W will be hosting a discussion dinner in January or February. Please consider yourself invited!