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Archive for stories – Page 38

4th Day of Thanksgiving: 10:03pm

10:03pm

For those of you who may not be privy to the secret inner world of WordPress Dude, the EyeJunkie posts don’t always come hot off the keyboard just as the thoughts spring from my brain. No, sometimes I actually schedule them ahead. [shock!] Sometimes I let them sit in my digital diary for weeks or months, adding a sentence or two here and there until they’ve adequately germinated. Sometimes they sit in the draft queue for a while waiting on me to hit the “publish” button. Sometimes they hang out in my hand-written title brainstorm list for an inordinate amount of time while I make room on the priority list. Sometimes WordPress Dude’s auto save function presses happily on while I scoot over to dictionary.com to find out the correct spelling of a word or while I answer one of the 4yo, 3yo or 1yo questions that come my way. If I’m really honest, sometimes when I say “last night” it was actually a few nights ago, or maybe a few months ago. Life’s just like that. Although the blogging medium is usually a little more transparent than some, WordPress Dude still offers a modicum of subterfuge tactics. It’s kind of like learning that President Obama wasn’t really the one writing all those tweets. Just as obvious, only with a MUCH smaller audience. For the three of my kind readers to whom it wasn’t obvious, I can only say… Pay no attention to the gal behind the curtain.

I think I may have taken this intro a little further than necessary.

10:16pm

I say all that to say this… This post is coming off the keyboard in real time. It’s a little odd even for me, but I needed a little self-intervention. You see, I’ve been struggling all day with coming up with some idea (any idea) for what to write about giving thanks. The fact is, I’m just about “give out,” as they say in my best Southern. It’s been a frustrating week so far with few thanksgiving fuzzies. I feel like I’m giving out in so many areas–being a wife, a mother, a cook, a home-keeper, a “creative”, a designer, a blogger, a social media strategist, a writer–and there’s not enough coming back in at the moment. Likely, I’ve stretched my creativity too thin, which happens periodically, but the bottom line is that thanksgiving is not really part of the equation right now.

I’ve been frustrated. I’ve been irritated. I’ve been tired. I’ve been a complainer and even a whiner. I’ve been ripe for ranting about something, anything. [Aside: I fed the rant habit with a little ditty I’ll post tomorrow] I had to ask Little Drummer Boy’s forgiveness today. I had to try two gas pumps before the credit card machine would work. While staring aimlessly ahead as I pumped away $35, I read “container” as “cantankerous” on the petroleum warnings. Enough said.

10:26pm

So, I’m going uncensored this evening in an attempt to sharply correct my attitude. And to add a shot of reality into this 12 Days of Thanksgiving thing. I just don’t feel like being grateful. I can’t find my gratitude inspiration. It’s Day 4. What can I glean about giving thanks from this predicament.

Here’s something that’s as good as any… Thanksgiving is my choice. There I said it. If thanksgiving is my choice, then being a whiner is my choice too. Ouch. It’s a painful reality. It’s not that I don’t have something to be thankful for or that there is nothing in my life to inspire my gratitude. The problem is that I’m choosing to focus my attention in the wrong direction. It’s my choice.

So, here goes. With you as my witness, I’m turning the corner, turning the page, whatever. It’s time to rethink my choice. I’m going to spend the next 15 minutes writing things I’m thankful for. And, I don’t mean a list of stuff I like. I mean things that have added blessing and value to my life just in the last few days. Ready, go.

10:35pm

Old friends that have unintentionally encouraged me to get real — A work acquaintance who responded to a request I thought was overlooked in such an incredibly generous, humble and transparent way — The ability to write what I think and feel in this amazing forum and have other people actually read it — The sweet voice of Bug as he sings his lullaby with me, and keeping my voice as soft as humanly possible so I could hear — Obys takeout on a busy day — Having the opportunity to speak for Dux D’Lux in online media, a great and challenging responsibility — A job that has continued to challenge me for 15 years, where I’ve continued to learn and grow creatively — Our first really crisp day — A glowing orange cable-knit v-neck sweater for $14.99 (I’m a girl, and it’s basic, folks) — The internet, what unprecedented access to ideas and opinions from everywhere all at once — The screaming from my hallway and realizing it’s the glee of truck races and giggles rather than arguments — A few days of full-time work for Quiver and the hope that it will continue — Baby Girl has not been pulling on her ear in the last few days and early evening naps have made her a happy camper — The artistic vision of Walter Anderson — Relatively smooth mornings and safe travel as I’ve handled getting all three gifts dressed and to preschool by myself this week — The anticipation of getting to have lunch with Little Drummer Boy on Friday — The fact that my gifts love going to their school — The act of forgiveness, giving and receiving it — Rat poison to stop that incessant scratching during these first cold days (sorry, had to go there because it’s distracting me) — The joy that comes from learning from others — The opportunity to give grace where it’s due and where it isn’t —

10:50pm

Ok. The choice is a no-brainer.

3rd Day of Thanksgiving: The Zoosday 12

zoo12

On this, the 3rd day of my 12 Days of Thanksgiving adventure, I give you the Tuesday Zoosday Twelve–hot off the presses from a great family weekend. We took our gang to the Memphis Zoo this weekend to celebrate Bug’s 3rd birthday. It’s amazing how time just extends itself when you’re out of your normal routine and environment. As we drove to fetch take-out on Sunday night after we arrived home, Quiver and I both commented that it seemed like we were away so much longer than just one night. We left on Saturday morning and came back home on Sunday evening, but it felt like much more. The whole extended family went–a gift for all on Bug’s birthday from G-Mo and Paw-T. It was a wonderful family time of getting out of our element and into a new perspective. It was much-needed fun with no distractions diluting the time with our precious gifts. Twelve weekend blessings confirmed by buzz around the Montgomery house since Sunday:

1. Great weather.
2. Little Drummer Boy had a TV in his bedroom. (read hotel room)
3. We found the panda bear before closing.
4. Thomas the Train books were a huge it.
5. Animal toys don’t have to have sounds, lights or batteries to be fun.
6. Giraffes like ukelele music.
7. Mommy has a pretty good sense of direction.
8. The best Memphis BBQ advice from locals.
9. Bug can still stop traffic with his trademark squeal.
10. It’s pretty fun for two preschool boys to sleep in the same bed.
11. One Daddy can actually push two strollers at once.
12. IHOP rocks.

I’m so thankful for the joy of new experiences–for myself and for my little ones. I’m thankful for the gift of celebration that can be enjoyed at any time and in any place. I’m thankful for my parents, who value those things enough to give them to us. And, for instilling in me the quest for that consciousness yesterday’s quote so aptly described. When it comes to the end of the day, Thanksgiving is much better lived than spoken. And try as I might with 300 words or so, I can’t seem to embody the spirit of all the eye-opening hope and wonder that a thankful heart enjoys any better than the evidences from last night’s Thanksgiving Tree additions you see up there:

I got to see giraffes. I got to see lions and tigers.

And, I got to watch.

2nd Day of Thanksgiving: Alive

12days2

“We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
~ Thornton Wilder

Here’s to seeking consciousness this Thanksgiving and thus finding myself awake and really alive!

1st Day of Thanksgiving: A Thread of Joy

12days2009

“O come. Let us sing for joy to the Lord. Let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving. Let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.” (psalm 95:1-2)

A year ago I began my first 12 Days of Thanksgiving quest with this same verse–with the phrase “come before His presence with thanksgiving.” In looking back at the writings from that time, I saw a consistent thread through the posts. It was a thread seeking to assuage doubt and fear in troubled times, to embrace trust in God anew and more fully. And, the gateway I found to do that was thanksgiving. This year, as I’m beginning the same 12-day adventure, I looked more closely at the entire verse and found an echo of where my heart has been of late. It’s funny how that works.

While the last year’s reading of this verse found a connection between trust and thanksgiving, I’m wondering if 2009 will show a thread of connection between joy and thanksgiving. This past year has been one of many changes for our family, and I’ve noticed a greater emphasis in my inner workings on life beyond just living. It’s possible to survive a life of just existing, of just getting by, of floating through experiences from one crisis mode to the next. But, survival isn’t really the same as living. As I’ve been seeking to pay closer attention and to make conscious choices about how my time, energy and love are spent, I’ve realized that one of the greatest blessings our Creator has giving his children is the opportunity to live a life of joy. Throughout the Bible, we are reminded that God is not a half-way being. His work doesn’t center on just enough. His love and grace and blessings are lavished, not simply doled out on an as-needed basis. Yes, they usually seem to come just when we need them, but I’ve found they are rarely limited to just squeaking by.

I don’t know where these next 12 Days will take me, and I don’t want to presuppose. But, when I read the verses above, I can’t help but see a thread of joy, the fibers of which are thanksgiving. From the looks of things, it seems that thanksgiving offers (once again) a passageway for all kinds of singing and shouting as we follow it into the presence of Providence and behold the depth of who He is. Joy.

I begin this year’s 12 Days of Thanksgiving with another prayer, similar to where I’ve started before. It seems like a good place:

1. I repent of a complaining and murmuring spirit, and ask God’s forgiveness for taking His character and blessings for granted.

2. I ask God to open my eyes to His goodness that is evident in my life, His faithfulness, His love and mercy.

3. I choose to thank Him for what He shows me. I thank Him for His works. I thank Him for His character.

4. I ask that this Thanksgiving season be one of experiencing the life of greater joy His word describes as I give credit where credit is due. Let me shout joyfully this season.

Oh Happy Day 111309: Seasons

Happy Friday, again! My Oh Happy Day gratitude project has seriously fallen through the cracks over the last few weeks, as has my “5 grateful things” habit that was intended to fuel it. Nonetheless, with the Thanksgiving holiday looming, now seems like the perfect time to revitalize my own version of “thank God it’s Friday” in post form. On Sunday I’ll be beginning this year’s 12 Days of Thanksgiving celebration with a post each day leading up to the national holiday. I can’t wait to see what I learn this year about the power of a thankful heart.
I’ve been thinking about seasons this week. It’s easy to notice the changing of seasons in Fall as the leaves begin their display of colors. The changing of seasons in life is not always as easy to spot. Yesterday I drove Little Drummer Boy and Bug to see Disney on Ice in Tupelo, Mississippi–about 75 miles through mostly farm lands. We saw combines harvesting and cows grazing and big trucks rolling and seasons changing. I’ve always thought that Mississippi didn’t have much of an Autumnal show of color with our mild climate, at least not the kind of show you see in cooler locales. But, lately I’ve realized that our trees have their own display, if you only know where to look.
More often than not, our Fall color comes in varying shades of greens and reddish browns, sliced by a gray entanglement of bare branches. This backdrop makes the less prolific Sugar Maple, Crape Myrtle, Bradford Pear or Ginko simply shine with vibrance. The bright reds, yellows and various in betweens they produce become jewels in the normal Mississippi sight line. It’s all in where you look.
Last November, only Little Drummer Boy and I went to see Mickey Mouse ice skate. It was a special Mommy-toddler day where we caravaned with the rest of his class from preschool. When we returned, we visited McDonalds–just the two of us. It was a rare pleasure. Yesterday, Bug was with us and it was just as special, only with a few signs of seasons changing. Signs that have been sneaking up on me for a while.
Bug wasn’t old enough last year, and LDB spent his visit to the “show” sitting in Mommy’s lap. This year, LDB was content to sit in his seat beside me or stand to see better. He covered his ears when the music got too loud rather than look to Mommy with concern. It was Bug’s turn to sit in my lap with the wide-eyed wonder of new and uncertain experiences.
Last year, LDB was awed by the Tinkerbel “show light” we got and the cotton candy–a memory that hasn’t faded. He decided early on in our planning that Bug should get one this year. They both got a “Nemo” light this year (yes, we contributed to the massie Disney machine, much to my chagrin), but a year older meant Little Drummer Boy was somewhat more savvy in his understanding of his purchasing power. He wanted another toy as well, so of course, Mommy obliged for both boys. We’ve slowly become more and more aware of the culture around us. Seasons change.
Last year, I was hard-pressed to convince Little Drummer Boy to leave the McDonald’s booth to play on the big slides. It wasn’t because he was afraid of the toys, it was because sitting next to Mommy was more of a treat. This year, I was hard-pressed to get both boys to come sit at the table long enough to scarf down their chicken nuggets. And, even though I could see the delight in their eyes as they catapulted out of the slide chute and came running to Mommy for a hug, I also saw the turning of the leaves. LDB still looks back to say “I love you Mommy,” but he’s off. Simply sitting beside Mommy to share french fries isn’t all there is anymore.
The seasons are changing. I can see their independence growing and their immersion in the culture around us expanding–the things that pull them and push them from my arms into the unknown. But, this is still a Happy Day post. Though the changing of seasons inevitably involves a bit of mourning for the old, it also bears an eager anticipation of the new. I’m very thankful that God offers us the promise of changing seasons–in nature and in life. All life, be it leaves or humans, is created to grow, to change, to move toward its destiny–or die. Those are the options. To hold back the change would be to do my gifts a great disservice in inhibiting their launch toward the people God made them to be. With the promise of seasons, we can see change. We can see growth. We can see that much is temporary and refine what isn’t. We can see ends and beginnings, both of which have their own blessing.
“In everything there is a season. And there is a time for every event under heaven–
A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.”
(ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
Oh Happy Day!

happyday111309

Happy Friday, again! My Oh Happy Day gratitude project has seriously fallen through the cracks over the last few weeks, as has my “5 grateful things” habit that was intended to fuel it. Nonetheless, with the Thanksgiving holiday looming, now seems like the perfect time to revitalize my own version of “thank God it’s Friday” in post form. On Sunday I’ll be beginning this year’s 12 Days of Thanksgiving celebration with a post each day leading up to the national holiday. I can’t wait to see what I learn this year about the power of a thankful heart.

leaves I’ve been thinking about seasons this week. It’s easy to notice the changing of seasons in Fall as the leaves begin their display of colors. The changing of seasons in life is not always as easy to spot. Yesterday I drove Little Drummer Boy and Bug to see Disney on Ice in Tupelo, Mississippi–about 75 miles through mostly farm lands. We saw combines harvesting and cows grazing and big trucks rolling and seasons changing. I’ve always thought that Mississippi didn’t have much of an Autumnal show of color with our mild climate, at least not the kind of show you see in cooler locales. But, lately I’ve realized that our trees have their own display, if you only know where to look.

More often than not, our Fall color comes in varying shades of greens and reddish browns, sliced by a gray entanglement of bare branches. This backdrop makes the less prolific Sugar Maple, Crape Myrtle, Bradford Pear or Ginko simply shine with vibrance. The bright reds, yellows and various in betweens they produce become jewels in the normal Mississippi sight line. It’s all in where you look.

Last November, only Little Drummer Boy and I went to see Mickey Mouse ice skate. It was a special Mommy-toddler day where we caravaned with the rest of his class from preschool. When we returned, we visited McDonalds–just the two of us. It was a rare pleasure. Yesterday, Bug was with us and it was just as special, only with a few signs of seasons changing. Signs that have been sneaking up on me for a while.

Bug wasn’t old enough last year, and LDB spent his visit to the “show” sitting in Mommy’s lap. This year, LDB was content to sit in his seat beside me or stand to see better. He covered his ears when the music got too loud rather than look to Mommy with concern. It was Bug’s turn to sit in my lap with the wide-eyed wonder of new and uncertain experiences.

Last year, LDB was awed by the Tinkerbel “show light” we got and the cotton candy–a memory that hasn’t faded. He decided early on in our planning that Bug should get one this year. They both got a “Nemo” light this year (yes, we contributed to the massie Disney machine, much to my chagrin), but a year older meant Little Drummer Boy was somewhat more savvy in his understanding of his purchasing power. He wanted another toy as well, so of course, Mommy obliged for both boys. We’ve slowly become more and more aware of the culture around us. Seasons change.

Last year, I was hard-pressed to convince Little Drummer Boy to leave the McDonald’s booth to play on the big slides. It wasn’t because he was afraid of the toys, it was because sitting next to Mommy was more of a treat. This year, I was hard-pressed to get both boys to come sit at the table long enough to scarf down their chicken nuggets. And, even though I could see the delight in their eyes as they catapulted out of the slide chute and came running to Mommy for a hug, I also saw the turning of the leaves. LDB still looks back to say “I love you Mommy,” but he’s off. Simply sitting beside Mommy to share french fries isn’t all there is anymore.

The seasons are changing. I can see their independence growing and their immersion in the culture around us expanding–the things that pull them and push them from my arms into the unknown. But, this is still a Happy Day post. Though the changing of seasons inevitably involves a bit of mourning for the old, it also bears an eager anticipation of the new. I’m very thankful that God offers us the promise of changing seasons–in nature and in life. All life, be it leaves or humans, is created to grow, to change, to move toward its destiny–or die. Those are the options. To hold back the change would be to do my gifts a great disservice in inhibiting their launch toward the people God made them to be. With the promise of seasons, we can see change. We can see growth. We can see that much is temporary and refine what isn’t. We can see ends and beginnings, both of which have their own blessing.

“In everything there is a season. And there is a time for every event under heaven–
A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.”

(ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Oh Happy Day!

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