One rainy day...

May 31, 2012

There are no bars on the windows of my life.  There is no barbed wire fence guarding my heart.  There are no secrets to be swept under rugs or into the far corners of my mind.  I walk tall with a smile on my face.  I am open and ready to experience all that life has to offer.  I am not dead in spirit ... I breathe in and breathe out, my voice albeit raspy at times, is heard around the world.

I am describing my life as a blogger, as a visionary, a daughter of the living God.  The story I tell is not someone else's.  It is mine ... my experiences, my journey, my struggles.  I am not ashamed of who I am and what I am about.  If I step on toes or cause you to be upset with me, let's talk about it.  I am open to constructive criticism and am teachable.  I am willing to try it your way if it doesn't compromise my basic beliefs in being real, honest, and upfront.  Call me stubborn, that's okay...  Call me whatever you want, that's your opinion...

It is stormy here today in Central Texas ... the house is dark and there is a sense of dampness.  I've been digging around hunting up a sweatshirt to put over my jammies.  Awhile ago, I stepped out on the patio and watched the wind blow my plants around.  I always hold my breath hoping that the dead limbs in the big tree will hold through one more storm.  Am I procrastinating about getting trimming done?  At $1,500 for a tree haircut, I guess you could say I am.

It's my goal today to tackle getting the house in order.  I will be so glad to be able to get my clothes that are sitting on the floor in baskets into the closet being prepared for me in the casita.  I am an organized neat freak and I look forward to knowing where everything is.  Come to think of it, I look forward to having a space that I can call my own and keep just as I like it.  I love to read, experience the softness of music, and move about in tranquility.  When the world outside is so darn chaotic, I need a haven to escape to.  That's just me ... always been me ... probably always will be me.

My son gave me a book to read, BEAUTIFUL OUTLAW.  It's written by John Eldredge and offers a look at the playful, disruptive, extravagant personality of Jesus.  Fibromyalgia often times gifts me with a foggy mind which makes reading difficult but I'm going to give it a go this afternoon.  The softness of the rain falling right now would just put me to sleep!  It is so neat to have my children, suggesting books for me to read as they journey through life.  They are thirsty to learn, always striving to be better people.  I like that.  More than anything, I am enjoying having the open loving relationships with them that I so desperately wanted with my own mother and father.  They know that there's absolutely nothing they couldn't share with me and I am comfortable in knowing that they will listen to me, not as a goofy old woman, but as someone with dignity and wisdom.

Many years ago, I knew that I needed mentors ... models to help me move into the light.  Starting in my twenties, I became very observant of how winners lived, talked, and learned.  I would take a little from this person and a little from that other person.  That worked for a while.  Then, I needed more than just milk ... I needed substance.  It was then that I began to model my life after my Lord.  What was He like?  How did He think?  How did He solve issues?  Did He ever get angry?  What gave Him the peace that passes all understanding?  If I was going to call myself a Christian, I wanted to know intimately the man I chose to follow.  It's been quite an amazing journey.

I am sitting in the dining room at a table strewn with papers and ideas for the casita.  My fingers whiz over the keyboard as words flow through my mind.  I have to type quickly or the thoughts fade and are lost as waves dashing upon a shore.  I stop and look at the picture on the wall before me ... the Norwegian grandmother with her grandchildren at her side catches my attention and I am drawn into the room.  There are so many details, from the contents in the room to the expressions on the faces.  A story is told ... a story only known to the artist himself.  There is enough there for me to have my own story come forth as I move inch by inch across the canvas.  The room reminds me of the house that my great grandfather built for his family in Glenwood, Minnesota.  Little did he know that visitors would be photographing the log home at the historical society and that I would be standing in the room where my grandmother and her siblings were born.  A miracle of Family - For Better or Worse.

I enjoy the social media of Facebook.  It gives me a snapshot of what friends and family are thinking, doing, and experiencing.  It is an avenue upon which I am able to publish my blog ... the internet highway affords me a place to research my family, my values, ideas.  Before hitting that "publish" button, I ask myself -- is what I have written true, real, honest, and my own??  It's often times amazing to me to realize how much our lives parallel others who have walked similar paths.  I'm certainly not alone in my travels -- what makes me different is my willingness to be transparent.

The storms remind me that they too have purpose.  There is something surreal about the aftermath of a storm ... now, the rain has stopped, I hear the chirping of the birds and cars splashing through the puddles on the road.  There is a deafening silence about me inside the house ... one only interrupted from time to time by Sadie's snoring.  I smile and find a renewed sense of energy that was lacking before the rain fell.

Into our lives, rain must fall ... storms come and go only to be replaced by the warming of the sunshine.  That is life as it was and will be.  It is my hope and prayer that you are enjoying this day whether you are walking in sunshine or the rain that is falling in Central Texas.  Always know that you are loved and prayed for ... YA YOU!!

Miss Dottie