Blathering- to go on and on without saying much of importance
"God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary, life - your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life - and place it before God as an offering."
(The Message translation of Romans 12:1)
Sometimes when I am in the midst of living life, I find it hard to stop and write about life. I'm too close to the actual events, too caught up in the swirl of the vortex, to properly stop and reflect upon the events themselves. And so, my blog remains waiting patiently until some sense of things can be made.
Sometimes I experience a sort of blockage. (Not the digestive variety, mind you, but a writer's block). The sense that I have nothing of value to say that hasn't been said before and shouldn't really clutter up cyberspace or a reader's precious time. No spark of creativity ignited. More blog silence. Closets are uncluttered. Halls are undecked. Menus are made and laundry is shoved into the washer by the loadful.
In such a dry spell, I have decided to simply count blessings. The ordinary blessings of an ordinary life. They are not unique to my experience, but, since they are still blessings, they should still be counted.
In January:
Cakes were made.
To celebrate birthdays and births, and to comfort those who had lost a parent to cancer, or were recovering from surgery. It has been our privilege to walk alongside family, neighbors, and friends through a variety of happy and sad times.
This recipe is over 100 years old. I wonder how many funerals and birthdays have been celebrated over this particular family pound cake.
Parties were thrown, family and friends gathered
Responsibility was taught. Allowance dollars were deducted for loads of laundry not folded, clothes and shoes left in the rain by the trampoline, etc. etc. etc. I hope that my children receive as legacy a great love for Jesus by living under our roof, but I'm about to lose hope that they will ever value cleanliness and organization! These lessons do not seem to be taking root without great struggle, financial repercussions, and endless sermonettes from mom (me).
Linda Dillow shares a story in her book Satisfy My Thirsty Soul about a student of Socrates who was given the thirty-ninth Psalm to ponder. He never moved on to the next lesson because he was still learning the first....holding one's tongue.
This chalkboard is nearly erased with age. The Davises continue to learn the art of not grumbling and complaining. We may never master this and move on either, but are adding "Be kind and tender to one another" (Ephesians 4:32) for good measure until Valentine's Day. I especially need to work on kindness as I dole out bazillions of instructions each day in keeping our family of seven going. I sound more like a drill sergeant than a cheerleader.
Asian food and conversation enjoyed in an hour of girl time
Enjoying a great rhythm of quiet time. Not keeping up with the Joneses in the read-the-Bible-through-in-a-year campaigns, but going a slower pace and journaling reflections and questions along the way. Simmering with Scripture is more my study style, not power-boil, full-speed-ahead. I'm on Genesis 22 on the 22 day of January.
I begin by reading the words of a hymn or praise song such as this one:
"Let me come closer to Thee Lord Jesus. Let me show forth Thy beauty, Lord Jesus , like sunshine on the hills. Let my lips pour forth Thy sweetness. Keep me and use me daily, Lord Jesus for Thee. (J.L. Lyne, 19th century)
Then all my saintliness evaporates with the morning dew when a grumpy preteen chooses to mouth off when reminded to clean up after herself. I'm not feeling grateful for the blessing of parenting. I go back to the drawing board and write down some praises and blessings anyway...I think this is what Scripture refers to as a "sacrifice" of praise. Choosing to bless when you feel more like cursing. Choosing to pray for restoration of parent-preteen relationships by afternoon carpool.
Cold Temperatures. We call this fountain in our neighborhood "the wedding cake" when it freezes over and delight each time it melts. This ice sculpture is as close to a snowman as we often get in the South. I argue with my children and shove hats and scarves into their hands as we head off to school. They prefer t-shirts and shorts. I insist on warm layers. They do not thank me, but maybe one day they will, or at least figure out why I was trying to spare them from the horrors of chafed skin.
Gym Bounty. I delight in the record numbers of gym members who actually use their gym memberships in January. I pray that their teeth-gritting resolve deepens into comfortable habit, and one day, they actually find it pleasant to come and work out with me. I enjoy meeting new faces and am thrilled to see a few newbies return for more.
Thomas Moore said, "The ordinary acts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest."
I hope he's right. January has been replete with simplicity.
