Cashiers Beware, We Talk to Everybody.

Yeah, we talk to everybody. I realized this was a cultural thing when I moved up North. On one of my first shopping trips the poor cashier looked lost when I started chatting with her about our move and my kids. It took a bit for me to realize it wasn't just her that didn't have much to say, none of the cashiers seemed to want to share what was going on in their lives in that 10 minutes we crossed paths.
All that was for those of you who might not understand when I tell you Mike and I had a life-changing talk with one of the bellhops at our hotel this weekend.
He was a nice young man. He said he was a student. I asked where. He said Savannah State. I asked what his major was. He said Chemistry. Then, he added, "But I don't really know what to do with that degree." Well, I jumped all over that. Told him about a friend of ours who works in the Chemical industry and how they couldn't find any young Chemical engineers. Well, by now we were up in the room and Mike told our young bellhop how to find more information on the field. Charles, yes, we were on first name basis at this point, told us how appreciative he was and then he said, "When I graduated and told my uncle I was going into Chemistry he told me no one in our family was that smart and I shouldn't do it."
Stunned, we proceeded to tell him we were both first generation college grads in our families and he was a smart, personable young man who most definitely could prove his uncle wrong. We watched the relief in Charles' eyes and the straightening of his shoulders as we continued to talk. I don't think life-changing is too strong of a description.
See, that's why we talk to everybody.

I'd Jerk a Knot . . .

"I'd jerk a knot in his tail." Mama would say that when one of our friends was willfully misbehaving. She'd also say it a quite a bit while watching her soaps. She meant there would be an immediate reckoning and things would be a-changin'.
This line came to my mind as I looked at our pool this morning. Folks with pools are familiar with the word "shock", both as a noun and a verb. Shock is a little bag of chemicals that shocks the bacteria in the pool back to normal.
Shock is my friend.
Last week we let things get out of hand and woke up to green stuff in the pool. Algae. Yep, I shocked it and immediately things began getting better. You may say I jerked a knot in that pool. (Okay, you may not.)
Over the summer I let things get out of hand and doubt started creeping around my edges, much like that algae started in the darker corners. I fought it some, but really, it wasn't so bad. However, pretty soon there wasn't much clearness left at all. Even in situations that called for pure Joy, things were a tad murky.
So I gave God permission to jerk a knot in my tail. You see, he doesn't just barge in and tell me what to do. He waits for me to want it. Do you remember all the times when Jesus asked the sick or lame what they wanted him to do?
Putting ourselves in the Presence of God sounds all nice and sweet, but a lot of times he's holding a bag of shock.

Tuesdays with Kay: Happened in the Shower

Tuesdays with Kay: Happened in the Shower: It happened while I was cleaning the shower yesterday. This kinda feels like Home.
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in seve...

Happened in the Shower

It happened while I was cleaning the shower yesterday. This kinda feels like Home.
Raise your hand if you noticed I haven't blogged in several months.
Back in March we found out we might get the opportunity to move to Florida with a job promotion for Mike. However it took until May for that to be settled and then once the ball started rolling, it went fasterer and fasterer. We sold the house in eight days (I know, amazing) and found a new one. We lived in a hotel for a couple weeks and then moved-in here on August 2nd. During that time putting my thoughts down on paper (or computer screen) just wasn't happening. Too many things that couldn't be said or that I didn't want to say. One of the things I couldn't say for a while was that we're going to be grandparents, which is wonderful news. And then there's stuff happening with my writing, I didn't want to say. But more about both of those on another day.
Today is about that click in our heads as certain information tumbles into place. Like when you know autumn is coming. Or when, with just one look, you realize a couple is falling in love. Or the way we just know our kid is lying to us. So why does this house feel like home today? Was it cleaning the shower? Was it coming home late at night after a trip to Georgia on Sunday? Is it just the weight of facts that keep building, one after the other?
I've questioned my ability to KNOW things this summer. Questioned it deeply and with many tears. But once again I believe I have to trust that I do KNOW sometimes. I really do.
Do you?

Let Go? Not sure about that. . .

Gardenia perfume greeted me on our back deck this morning from the two bushes we planted by the pool our first summer here. Those tiny camilla bushes which promised blooms in January when we'd be in the hot tub, are now twelve feet high. Forsynthia bushes fill the yard with yellow sprays in early spring and they are all from cuttings out of my parents yard. On a path in the backyard bright orange and yellow Oriental lilies will bloom soon and remind me of how Mike's dad sent them as little bits of green a decade ago. How can we leave all this beauty? All the memories?
But we will, because it's time to let go. Time for this home which has sheltered and held us to be home for another family. I think of them often. Pray for them often. Not sure it's possible, but I hope they laugh here as much as we did. I hope they find peace and joy and love here. I hope they gather the gardenias to bring that heady smell indoors. I hope they enjoy the shade from the maples which sprung up where no evidence of the trees that fell in the tornado still exists.
Letting go is hard, but letting go when it's time is the only way to keep an open heart and open hands.
Wonder if the people in our future home are praying for us? Not that's a cool thought.

Fully Aware?

Lights on in all the rooms. Doors opening and closing. And opening and closing. Driveway as busy as Hartfield runways. Requests for help on the computer, to sew on a button, food. Clutter magically appearing like trails left by slugs.
Yep, some of the kids were home this weekend.
There were reasons to be here including a wedding, interviews, packing for camp, trying on a dress for sorority rush, taking home stuff they don't want moved to Jacksonville, and to wave at us as they passed through on their way to and fro.
Wow - hard to believe that was how we used to live. It seems so hectic and loud and chaotic but at the time it was just busy - and fun. We truly enjoyed it. I think that's why we don't miss it. We lived it and appreciated it and now have moved on to another part of our life.
Mama told me a long time ago that was the way to avoid regrets. Live the moment so fully aware, that regrets never get any room to even begin.
Being Fully Aware. Takes time. Takes feeling. Takes intention.Yes, being Fully Aware takes alot.
But it gives so much more.

Moving is Scary!

Yep, we're hitting the road and moving to Jacksonville, Florida. We're so excited. . .
And sad.
We've loved our twelve years here and have some amazing friends. Our kids are fairly close by and we love our house (and the pool, of course). But. . . the adventure calls to us. It feels right.
And you want to know how blessed I am? Our friends and family are excited for us. In the midst of Daddy's health problems, I didn't like telling Mama we were moving six more hours down the road. Yet, first words out of her mouth were, "What a great adventure!" She'll never know what that did to let us relax and enjoy this move.
And that's the kind of parent I want to be. A parent who meets every opportunity my kids face with enthusiasm and joy. That's the kind of friend I want to be, the kind of wife I want to be.
Making it easier for those close to me to seize the adventures opening up to them sounds like a worthy goal to have.
But it also sounds pretty scary.