Passion Re-Ignited

I wrote this post: Early Morning Thoughts (Alternate title: Living With Passion) last March, and I found it earlier this month when I was putting together my favorite posts of 2010. Re-reading it made me both smile and sigh - smile, because I still believe so strongly in the idea I began there; and sigh because I don't think I've done a very good job of living up to that goal of living my life with passion, of freeing myself of fear - fear of failure, fear of scorn, fear of judgement.

(Part of the problem, honestly? I'm so tired. It's hard to be a passionate person when what excites you more than anything else is the thought of sleep. The months from May to December were crazy, and with two little ones I am still exhausted. All. The. Time.)

However, I've been thinking about passion again lately. And about how I want my girls to live. Whether I want them to pursue their dreams or live a life of safe normalcy. And about how I've always sold myself short, never believed that I really could accomplish great things.

I was talking to a friend this week, and told her that I've always, ever since a little girl, been able to keep my imagination from taking over my life, by keeping my two worlds strictly separate. There's my dream world, where anything and everything is possible. Then there's reality. And I can live quite happily in reality, without expecting it to be anything more than what it is, because I have my dream world too.

In some ways, I think that's a good, healthy outlook. But, thinking it over, I also wonder if keeping those two so strictly separated didn't cripple me a bit, because I wouldn't go after my dream in reality, always assuming that I would fail.

Why didn't I stick with figure skating once I discovered that I not only loved but was good at ice dance? Because I knew I was too old to have a competitive career? Partially, but also because I was afraid that before long I wouldn't be good at it anymore. Because it was really hard being almost ten years older than all the other kids in my skill bracket. Because I was too afraid to pursue my dream.

Why didn't I keep up with voice lessons after a few years? Because I thought it was ridiculous to dream about actually doing anything with my voice, and I figured I had gone far enough for someone who only wanted it as a hobby.

I don't push myself enough. I never have. I didn't get my driver's license until my permit had almost expired and I had to get it. Even now I won't drive unless I have to. I still don't know how to ride a bike - I didn't care enough to ask someone to help me learn when I was younger, and since then I just got too embarrassed, being as old as I was and not knowing how to ride.

My parents, maybe, ought to have pushed me more. But they didn't. They paid me the honor of respecting my desires and allowing me to make my own choices about what I wanted to chase and what I didn't.

(Plus, I was - and still am - pretty darn stubborn, and usually when someone (Elisabeth) pushed me to do something, I would dig my heels in and be more determined than ever to not do it. The curse of being a younger sister to a very charismatic and decisive older sister, I guess.)

I'm an adult now, and old enough to not be worried about what people think. I'm also at a place where I am thinking about how I want my girls to grow up, and what sort of an example I want to set for them.

I've been taking Joy skating these last few weekends, and my love for it has blossomed fresh. Watching the Nationals this past weekend (I'll do a recap post later this week), especially seeing Alissa Czisny and Ryan Bradley come back and do what no one - not even themselves - thought possible, has inspired me even more.

I looked into it, and the options aren't great around here, even if I could work it around the girls. But - I'm saying it here on my blog so you guys can help keep me honest -

When we move to Chicago and our lives have settled a bit -

I'm taking ice dance lessons again.

Not because I think I can be competitive at my age and skill level. But because I love it. And I am - or was, at least - good at it. And I want to go as far as I can with it. Just because.

I was working on my pre-bronze dances when I quit before. Do I think I can make it all the way up to a gold level?

I don't know. But I'm going to find out.

I'm not going to let fear of anything stifle my passion.

Not anymore.


What are some things that maybe you have always wanted to do but have held back on? What has held you back? Do you think you'll ever try to go for them? Do you live with passion or prudence, and why?


(And I apologize for any typos or unconnected thoughts - I just typed this and published it, no chance for second-guessing myself. So it's not exactly polished.)

This Is My Life

So.

I wrote out a basic schedule.

It was a nice schedule. It worked really well for the first two days.

Then.

Gracie started waking up around 4 every morning, which meant she started sleeping later in the morning.

Which seems like a good thing.

Except that now she's refusing to sleep during her morning nap and apparently wants to take after-lunch naps instead.

Which completely throws off the schedule.

(And also, incidentally, might mean that I no longer have an excuse to skip church because of her naps - which also might seem like a good thing, but for the fact that those few hours of alone time at the start of each week do more for my spiritual and mental health than the best sermons in the world. I know. I'm so unspiritual.)

And I have this nagging feeling that if I switch the schedule all around to accommodate an afternoon nap instead of a morning nap ...

She'll go back to waking up at 5:30 and wanting to nap by 10.

I'm starting to remember why I never used to bother with a schedule.

Just Doing Our Best

Gracie (whose latest nickname around here is Bundle, given that she can be a bundle of sweetness, misery, or mischief at any given moment, depending on her whim, and which I find amusingly appropriate, reminding me as it does of Lady Eileen “Bundle” Brent, from two of Agatha Christie’s Superintendent Battle books) is snuggling in my lap right now, thumb in her mouth, brown curls brushing my chin. Every once in a while she pops up enough to toss a Cheerio in her mouth or sing along with the music on my laptop.

She’s not sick, even if she did sleep two hours later than usual this morning (7:30 instead of 5:30 - oh how I rejoiced!). She’s just always extra snuggly when she’s teething. Except for the fact that this means I can’t get any work done while she’s awake, I love it. Joy is only snuggly when she’s very tired or a little sick, and she always was that way, right from a baby. I’m thankful one of my children is a cuddler.

Speaking of Joy, she’s - ahem - testing right now. I tell her she needs to not play with her fingers until she’s done eating (she gets so caught up in making her fingers “skate” along the table or her legs that she forgets to eat), so she mostly stops, and just waves them gently - not quite disobeying, but seeing how far she can push before I say something. Now she’s trying to skate with them under the table or behind her back - apparently hoping I won’t notice.

I wouldn’t mind it so much except for two things: One, when she does this, like I mentioned, she forgets to eat and it takes her two hours to eat a piece of toast and half a banana. Two, now that we’ve started telling her to wait to play with her fingers until her food is all gone (unless it’s snack time, because that’s just fun time anyway), she does it deliberately, trying to see what she can get away with.

I took some sharp criticism from someone this week for the fact that I am constantly getting after the girls for the need to obey, to have a good attitude. She felt I was far too harsh with them. I wish she had spoken to me openly about it, instead of sending an email after leaving early because she was so upset. I would have tried to explain that if I let something go even once, it becomes a major issue and requires an enormous amount of work to deal with later on (from experience). I wish she could have seen how happy Joy is right now, having finished eating promptly, due to my constant reminders to focus on her food instead of her fingers, and being able to get down and play instead of sitting in her chair for another hour. I wish she had paid equal amounts of attention to the praise and positive reinforcement both Carl and I try to give the girls, more than the negative most of the time.

(In fact, she specifically mentioned that she didn’t like that I was always telling them they had a bad attitude. Maybe I was just off that day, but I hardly ever tell the girls they are having bad attitudes. Most of the time I tell them that they need to have a good attitude, which of course implies that they are not, but is still giving them a positive to focus on instead of a negative. I think maybe she put a more negative interpretation on it, although, like I said, I might have been having an off day and used “bad attitude” more than usual then.)

I’m not anything close to a perfect mom. Anyone who reads this blog knows that I, like most mothers I know, constantly struggle with feeling like I’ve failed, with wondering if I’m not doing enough.

Right now, though, Gracie is off my lap and the girls have just barely stopped dancing together to the music, and are playing with toys. Without me even there in the room with them, I can hear Joy saying, “Would you like this one, Gracie? May I have the strawberry? Thank you!”

That sort of interaction doesn’t come naturally. Sharing, asking, being kind - those come through training. And maybe my training isn’t the best it could be, and certainly the girls aren’t always so sweet with each other, but by God’s grace they are learning.

I’m not writing this as a defense of my parenting abilities. Well, maybe I am a little, but that’s not the main reason. The best comfort I got after reading that email was the numerous “mom blogs” I read that all mentioned something about just doing the best we can, about loving on our kids, about making mistakes and moving past them … etc.

So really, I am mainly writing this in hopes that perhaps some other wounded spirit might read this and take some comfort from it.

You are not perfect. I am not perfect. But we love our kids, and love, my friends, covers a multitude of sins, and an even greater number of mistakes.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go gently remind my three-year-old that poop goes in the potty, not her underwear. Again.

And then give her a kiss.


ETA: Here's a list of links to the most helpful posts I found these last few days ... hope they will give you a boost, too.


For No Reason Because sometimes, you are a rockstar, you really are.


Would You Believe ... Proof that training them when they are young really does have good results.


And They Walk With Me ... I read this before the Debacle Visit, but I reminded myself of it afterward. This is why I train, so we can have this sort of relationship in ten years.


Whatever you Do, Don't Lose Hope I'm not the only one who feels I'm spinning out of control sometimes!


Three Down Because no matter what else we mess up at, we will always do anything to keep our children safe and loved.


(There were more, I know ... but of course I can't find them now. Life!)

To Watch Her Grow

We started out the same way we had done it two weeks ago - Joy secured between my knees, and both hands grasped tightly in mine. Then she started to look around. She saw the other kids skating, holding on with only one hand.

So she moved away from me, and skated holding on to one hand alone. I had to catch her free hand a few times, because she lost her balance quite a bit at first ...

But it didn't take long before she gained confidence and balance, and could go for quite a few strokes without holding on with two hands. She was actually-truly stroking, too - not just walking on her blades, but pushing with them like you're supposed to.

("She's so cute," gushed the teenage girls skating past us. Then, as they noticed her double-bladed skates - "I want skates like that!" Teenagers - especially girls - crack me up.)

We'd been on the ice for about fifteen minutes when I heard Joy trying to tell me something. I bent over, thinking she was going to say that she needed to go potty or wanted me to hold both her hands again.

"Mamma," she said, all serious eyes and earnest face. "I think I would like to skate all by myself now."

So she did.

All by herself, without holding on to the boards or my hands or anything. She had to grab me a couple times to keep from falling, and she went down and landed on her bottom once, but came back up giggling.

After a bit, she got tired, but she didn't want to get off. No, she wanted me to hold her between my knees again and go fast. So we sped around the ice, her giggles rising above the wind of our passing, and then she went on her own again, until we were done.

I am proud. And humbled, because I have neither the skill nor the courage to do what she did. And excited, because with her determination and mindset, she has so much potential to do anything, anything at all that she wants.

The skating is fun, is a real joy for me to be able to share this sport I love so dearly with my girl. But it's not just about the skating, or even the exercise. The real thrill, for me, comes from watching her grow and blossom, before my eyes, and seeing all the possibilities for her life roll out like a scroll.

Getting to parent this girl as she grows us? It's going to be a fun, fun ride. I am privileged to be her mamma.

Torvill and Dean, we are not.

Sunday Rest

It is cold here today.

After a busy Friday and Saturday (including another trip to the ice rink, this time with pictures, which I'll try to include in a post on Monday), today seems a good day to cuddle down with blankets and books, to rest and be still, to snuggle in with toys and find a quiet nook all your own.

To drink tea, and delve into the Word, and talk with family on the phone.

To work on a quilt, to listen to classical music, to watch the skating show you taped yesterday.

In short, a good day to be restful and at peace.

I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday, my friends.

Thank You, and Skating

Thank you all for your suggestions and tips on surviving. I did draw up a very basic, very loose schedule, and I'm incorporating many of your ideas, and I think we're going to get through. And as I said before, I know these days won't last forever - or even much longer, really - and on those days when I feel like my two leeches are going to drive me crazy, I just remind myself of that. Over and over again.

Anyway. To show my appreciation (I am nothing if not giving!), I make this public service announcement:

The US National Figure Skating Championships start tomorrow (novice and junior first - seniors start on Thursday). NBC starts showing free skates on the the 29th. For my Canadian readers, your Nationals start tomorrow, and I have no idea when and on what channel they'll be shown, but probably much sooner and in much greater detail than we get. (Um, yes, that was me pouting.)

I'm eager to see how the men's field shapes up - a lot of talent there. In dance, Davis and White are practically guaranteed the gold (and they deserve it! I still haven't watched the Free Dance portion of the Olympics from last year because I'm still so upset they didn't win gold), and I'm sad to say pairs don't interest me too much these days.

But the ladies - ah well, I am a big fan of both Rachael Flatt and Mirai Nagasu, but I am cheering unashamedly for Alissa Czisny. She is my current favorite skater, and has made my fairly short list of all-time favorites.

Want to know why? Here:



And here:



(Every time we watch her skate, I nudge Joy and whisper "If you do ever take up figure skating competitively, skate like her." And then she grins at me.)



(Oh, and Sunrise, just so you know, I haven't forgotten about the skating program you were asking about a few months ago. Unfortunately, I put all my skating tapes from those years onto DVD's recently, and even more unfortunately, my DVD player broke before I could finalize them, so they are unwatchable until I get the software I need for finalizing. Once I get that, I anticipate many happy hours quilting and perusing old routines to find the right one.)

The Impossible Dream

I really need to start scheduling my days differently.

Maybe I just need to start scheduling my days, period.

I don't like strict schedules, which tend to make me dull-eyed and drab. But something needs to change.

What brought this about?

(I'm so glad you asked!)

I didn't eat breakfast today until 10:00. Again. Part of it was forgetfulness, part of it was just that I couldn't take the time with the girls needing me.

Grace wakes up early. She gets up with Carl (around 6) and cuddles with me in bed until he's done with his shower, at which point we get up and I get her juice and we get started. Joy wakes up anywhere between 6:30 and 7. And from them until their naps at 9:30, I'm on call. Since Joy doesn't sleep during naptime anymore, I'm actually technically still on call for her during naptime, to help her go potty or remind her that quiet play means playing quietly.

She gets up around 11. Depending on her teeth, and how quickly she fell asleep, Grace is up between 11:30 and 1.

And that's it. They are both in the wonderful and maddening stage of wanting to be attached to me All The Time. My dishes have a nasty tendency these days to pile up, because I can't even wash them while the girls are awake.

Carl gets home around 4, but he always, always has to do studying. That's part of the whole preparing-for-seminary deal, and there's no way around it. Besides, when Grace's teeth are really hurting, she doesn't even want Papa, it's only Mamma who will do (which makes fixing supper quite the challenge, let me tell you).

The littles are in bed by 7:30, and at that point I am so very tired that about all I manage to do is collapse in the chair or on the couch and either read a fluff book or wander aimlessly around the internet until I fall asleep around 9. The brain and the body, they can only take so much?

I spend too much time on this internet business, but it's the only thing I can do while the littles are awake, really. I can hold them on my lap and check Facebook and Twitter, remind myself of the world outside these four walls. I can't do my Renaissance research, I certainly can't study the Bible, I can't write ... I can't even really clean well because they are Always There. The only way I manage to get a shower most days is by resorting to putting in a video for them to watch while I'm in the bathroom - and even then, Gracie usually starts crying after ten minutes.

I am not (despite being a female) a multi-tasker. One thing at a time is the way I've always had to work. Can't do fifty - or even five - things at once without me going crazy and nothing getting done properly. I just can't do it.

I'm not whining. Really. I know this is just a normal part of life. I know, because it happened with Joy, that eventually Grace will get all her teeth and not need me so much. I know, because I'm seeing it already, that Joy will become more and more independent and not insist on being glued to my side every moment of the day. So I'm not complaining about these days.

But I do need to be able to, you know, get clean and eat food once in a while. And maybe have enough energy left at the end of the day to carry on a conversation with my husband. I also need - spiritually if not physically - to be able to study the Bible regularly.

And I think, if those things happened, I would be able to focus more on the girls during our day, to actually play with them and interact with them, instead of just being a policeman making sure they don't kill themselves or each other.

I'm just not sure how to make it happen.

More experienced mothers out there? Any advice? Survival tips for those years before your children turn five?

Or should I just give up on the idea of having anything in my life except children right now? I hate to do that, but if that's my only option, I would rather know it and deal with it than keep struggling to find balance.

I just know that this constant battle to take care of my needs, my husband's needs, my home's needs, and my children's needs, is wearing me to a shoestring, and something Must Be Done!

Seeking Balance

My parents always taught my sister and me that it was best to give people the benefit of the doubt. It was a hard lesson, and still is. It goes against the grain to believe the best motives of people, when you know that they might really be intending ill. It’s natural to want to be protecting ourselves, to believe the worst so we won’t be taken in.

And yet, how many times do we assign ill-intent where none is meant? And what good does it do us, as Mom and Dad always reminded Lis and me, to think the worst, even if it’s true? Say somebody does say something unkind with intent to hurt. Which is going to better serve their purposes, for us to recognize that and be hurt, or for us to assume they didn’t really mean it, and turn it aside with a smile and laugh?

Obviously, their sails are going to be rather more deflated by us taking the high road.

I’ve been thinking about this in life lately, thinking of how easy it is to assume that we got the lousy deal out of life, that our life stinks compared to other people’s.

My parents have had what many people would call a hard life. Family, work, church, friends … tragedies and/or difficulties in every corner.

And yet, I never thought of our life as hard as a kid. It’s only been since being an adult, looking back, that I’ve been able to realize how difficult it must have been. Mom and Dad, they just took whatever came, occasionally ranted and fumed over it, and moved on. They handled - handle - trouble with grace and humor, not with bitterness and anger.

Sure, they aren’t perfect. Mom is very open about her struggles with depression when Lis and I were really little. She and Dad had to work to bring themselves to a place where they could say, Life is never going to be as great as we would like it; we need to find our contentment in God, rather than our circumstances.

They worked to give life the benefit of the doubt, as well as people. And I want to do the same. I am tired of grousing over my circumstances. I am ready to take the high road.

I would rather "dupe" myself into believing my life is and has been okay - even good! -  than get trapped in a mindset of bitterness, depression, and/or self-pity. I would rather look at this life God has given me as a crazy, wondrous adventure than a scary, hurtful prison sentence.

I could choose to dwell on the bad things in my past and present. Too often I do. Sometimes I let myself think I have an extraordinarily difficult and miserable life, that nobody else in the whole world has it as bad as I do or did. Sometimes I tot up all the things that could be considered tragedies in my life.

But honestly, who benefits by that? Does that make my life any easier, thinking about how rotten it all is or was or could have been? Does it make me happier? Does it make me more pleasant to be around?

Sometimes things get so bad they overwhelm you. I get that. And I’m not saying everyone should just pull themselves up by their bootstraps, put on a happy face, grin and bear it, blah blah blah. I don’t know your life, or what has happened to you, or anything about that. Many people have suffered real tragedies, events that make my small troubles look - well - small. I am not speaking to how anyone else should live, just trying to detail some conclusions I have reached for my own life, my own mindset. All I know is me.

I know how God has dealt with me. And I know how he could have dealt with me.

And when I think about his grace, suddenly, all those life circumstances don’t really seem so bad after all. 

I can choose to interpret them poorly. Or I can look at them with humor and common sense and the knowledge that everything is going toward molding me more in my Lord’s image, to making me more like him.

I don’t have to be Pollyanna. But I needn’t be Eeyore, either.

I can just be human. Delightfully, gloriously, flawed-but-getting-better, humanly, Louise. Taking life as it comes, seeking the good and accepting the bad, and looking for God’s face through it all.

Double Post From My Writing Blog

I am double-posting here something I just put up on my writing blog, because I want as many people to see it as possible, and I know more people read this than read the other:

I have just discovered that a blog calling itself movie-ozone has linked me as one of its blogging partners. I am in NO WAY connected to this blog. I have reported them as spam, and if no action is taken against them, I will have to consider shutting this blog down and starting one with a different server. I like blogspot, but I do not like not being able to protect myself against people falsely claiming a connection with me (admittedly, I could go private, but I prefer to keep my blogs public - if I go private, I might as well not bother blogging at all).

Anyone who is visiting this blog from movie-ozone, I am very sorry you were misled. Again, I had never even heard of this blog until today, when I discovered they claimed I was connected with them. I am not, and their thoughts and opinions are in no way representative of mine.

Blogspot, please take action against this blog! With a quick Google search, I found that I am not the only one to have this problem - I think every blog they've linked on their site has been linked without permission!

Mountains and Valleys

I go to the woods to breathe.

I don't know where I first heard that quote, or who said it originally, but I've always liked it.

Except, I don't go to the woods to breathe. I go to the woods for solemn stillness, for reverent wonder. When I need to breathe I go to the mountains.

People who live out west might snort at the Adirondacks. Certainly they are not as impressive as some. But oh, I do love them. They are home to me. And is anything in all the world more beautiful than a mountain with a lake at its base? In winter, rimmed with ice; in spring and summer, lined with green; in fall, covered with the flaming glories of year's end?

I love all mountains. I feel freer there than anywhere else. The sea reminds me of how small I am; the woods alike, but the mountains make me stretch out my arms to the sky, reaching for the heavens.

I go to the mountains to breathe. And when I come back to the valleys, I carry some of the mountains with me.

This post is part of a new idea called Five-Minute Fridays at The Gypsy Mama's blog. Definitely fun!

Winter's Day

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.  -Robert Frost

This Is Me

Last night after the girls were in bed, I sat down to study Genesis 1 (because we're starting a Bible Study on Genesis TONIGHT, and I don't like to leave things to the last minute at all).


I realized that I have no more small notebooks. How can I be expected to study something without a notebook? For my personal studies, I can keep notes on the computer, but I'm not bringing my laptop to a Bible Study at someone else's house (for one thing, I'd be too tempted to check Facebook and Twitter if the discussion got at all boring).

I don't like bringing big notebooks to Bible Studies either. Too bulky and awkward. So I figured I could just fold some lined paper in half and stitch it together.

Or was there something online that would look nicer?


An hour later, I had this:

I won't try to take a better picture, because then you'd see that the pages are uneven, the stitching atrocious (the holes took forever, several implements, and much frustration), and it is altogether not worthy of such a long time spent on it.

Oh well. It was done. I happily, if a bit sheepishly, opened Genesis, and in moments my new little notebook was getting filled with writing.

It's never simple, being me (or being married to me, Carl might add). But at least it's all good blog fodder.

Sprouting Wings

Ever since her first attempt at ice skating, Joy has been talking about going again. Considering that she insisted on being carried around the ice that time, and cried every time I tried to set her down, I was skeptical of how much she really wanted to try again, and how much was connected to the beautiful figures she watches on tv with me.

But she kept talking, and kept talking, so last week I promised her we would try to go on Saturday - as long as she promised me she would try to skate by herself. I would hold her hands, and carry her some if she needed, but she had to at least try to skate on her own.

She promised. And talked about going skating every single day last week. Every. Single. Day.

So, on Saturday, we first took the girls sledding, and then quick dropped off our snow clothes here at the house before heading to the rink. Joy was quivering with excitement as we went in and got our skates on. She danced beside me all the way to the ice.

And then, the instant our feet touched that gleaming surface, she clung to me and demanded I carry her. I picked her up and skated slowly, reminding her that she promised Mamma she would try. I would carry her some, I said again, but she had to at least try.

We stopped at the other end of the ice. I set her down and sandwiched her firmly between my legs while holding her hands. We'll stand here until you feel comfortable, I said.

We waited. Once I felt her body start to relax, I moved my feet back and forth, gliding in place. Startled at first, Joy quickly decided that was okay. Then I began to glide forward slowly, ever so slowly. She went along. We did a round of the ice like that, and she started to smile.

(My arms and shoulders were starting to scream already, but it was worth it!)

Then I suggested she step with her feet, demonstrating how to do it. Before long, she was prancing along on the ice, occasionally just resting her feet and letting me drag her, but most often stepping, sometimes even trying to push like Mamma was doing. She got her skates tangled in mine once or twice, but that was all right, I just reminded her that she needed to keep her feet under her body, not mine, or we'd both go down.

We had to take a break to go potty, and she practically ran back to the ice afterward, and hopped on without even waiting for me, bracing herself against the boards while I got on, taking my hands with confidence once I was behind her again.

I'm so proud of you, I told her over and over. So very proud. Prouder than if she'd just won an Olympic medal.

It wasn't just about the skating. It was my naturally cautious, hesitant girl, stepping outside her comfort zone, overcoming her timidity and fears to do something that she really wanted to do, something she ended up loving. It was watching her take a huge step toward maturity, right before my eyes.

"We go skating tomorrow?" she asked me Saturday night as I kissed her good-night.

Not tomorrow, but soon, sweet girl. We'll go skating again soon, and before long, you'll have wings on your feet to fly around that ice.

Fly on, brave dreamer.

Friday Flickerings

I just sent the girls upstairs for a second quiet time today. First quiet time (an actual nap for Gracie) comes mid-morning, and that's usually it for the day. Both today and yesterday, though, around 2:30 or 3 I've found myself ushering them back into their beds for another time of books and quiet play.

Mercy, we've only made it through the first week of January, and already we're all going stir-crazy.

Or maybe it's just reaction against the busyness of the holidays. Even though we've done nothing this week, I wake up every morning so weary I can barely lift my head off the pillow. Last night I went to bed at 8:30, and I still woke up this morning feeling like I could use another few hours of sleep. I'm guessing, from the willingness with which the girls are going for their quiet time, and the way Joy starts asking if it's bedtime as soon as supper is over, that they are feeling just as wiped out.

It was a great Christmas with my family, and a very nice New Year's with Carl's mom, but after this holiday season I am looking forward even more to the time when we Do Not Travel over the holidays, and people come to us!

I've been too tired to even keep up with my research these days, which is disappointing, because I really, really want to get started on my newest story project (working title Starsong) and I can't until I get at least the basics of this research out of the way. I also need to rework my query letter for The Eldest Sister just a bit (got another rejection from another agent this week) to make it the best I can, and I haven't had the energy for that, either.

However. It's Friday. Carl's coming home in an hour, and then we'll have a nice relaxing weekend. I promised Joy we'd try to go skating tomorrow, and she's promised me she'll actually try to skate this time, instead of insisting on being carried the whole time. Both of the girls are happy upstairs right now (Gracie is reading in her crib with only the occasional peep, and Joy is singing in bed to her animals), and as soon as I am done with this I am going to make myself a mug of hot chocolate and read another chapter or two in Tamora Pierce's Bloodhound. I borrowed the Beka Cooper books from the library this week, and I'm thoroughly enjoying them. Out of all Pierce's books that I've read, I like the Trickster duology the best, but the Beka Cooper books are coming in a close second. I love finding new books that I enjoy!

It's snowing out, and everything is pretty and white. We're having leftovers for supper, so all I have to do for that is grate some cheese to sprinkle on top.

Not such a bad afternoon, even if I am tired.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, whether it be snowy or not!

One Word: Peace

I've read a great deal about people choosing one word for a year-long focus each January. I've never even remotely considered joining in, because, well, my hatred of the cliche or trendy could almost be characterized as cliche itself.

But enough about my peculiarities. I have seen this "one word" idea this past month from enough people who aren't cliche or trendy to start mulling it over. Then I got to the point where I said "Well, if I were to do this (but I'm not), ____ would be my word."

Which led to thinking about that word, and looking up Bible verses on it, and thinking what good verses they would be to memorize ...

Guess what? I'm doing One Word for 2011!

My word? As I have looked over all the stress and fretting and worrying I (I, who believe so firmly in God's sovereignty!) have done in the last few years, at how far I have come from my pre-marriage serenity (not Carl's fault, I hasten to add - just from starting a new life), at how far I am from the kind of Christianity I seek, I chose:

Peace.

(As soon as I mentioned this to Carl, he suggested a list of other "P" words, including perspicuous and pulchritudinous. I asked him if pompous was going to be his word for the year!)

I wrote down a list of verses that mention "peace" that I want to memorize this year, as a help to achieving a peaceful mindset and quiet heart. Here are a few of my favorites off the list:

“Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.” Psalm 34:14 I love the idea of pursuing peace - not just being passive, which is something a lot of people associate with peace, but actively setting out after it.

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” Isaiah 26:3 Trusting in God and keeping one's mind stayed on him produces perfect peace. Beautiful!

“And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.” Isaiah 32:17 So, so lovely. This just might become one of my new favorite verses out of all Scripture. The effect of righteousness is peace, and the result of righteousness is quietness and trust.

“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” Romans 14:17 To me, this verse says: Let's not get all caught up in the minutiae of squabbling over little details. Small differences in doctrine is not what God's kingdom is about! It is about righteous living, and dwelling in the Holy Spirit with peace and joy, in God and in each other.

“Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” Hebrews 12:14 And this verse says to me, Yes, we will live peaceably with each other, and instead of judging our brothers and sisters, we will strive for personal holiness in our own lives, so that we may please God. We will not turn a blind eye to sin in the name of peace, but we will not seek to wound our fellow Christians, either.

“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” James 3:17-18 - "And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." Notice how righteousness and peace are connected in so many of these passages? Something to ponder ...

So. Peace is the concept I'm pursuing this year. Peace in my own heart (which comes of a deeper trust in and love for God), peace with others, and peace with where God has placed me right now.

At this moment, the house is tidy (except for the dishes from last night's dinner with friends piled on the kitchen counter, but I'm pretending they don't exist right now), Grace is sleeping, Joy is reading and singing in bed, and I am getting ready to (finally!) study Psalm 19, one of my very favorite Psalms, and something I've been anticipating since starting my study of the Psalms at all. 

There is quietness. There is peace. This is what I want to capture, even when my outside life is chaotic. This feeling, in my heart and mind, no matter what.

This is my goal for 2011.

Do you do One Word? Do you make resolutions each year, or set new goals? If there was one word or one concept you would want your life to exemplify in the coming year, what would it be?