Hi...

If this blog is showing up in your reader, you really need to move on over to my new blog.  A nicer, more thoughtful me at www.akamrsseaman.blogspot.com.

Thanks!

Do you feel like you've lost me?

Come find me at www.akamrsseaman.blogspot.com

Making a Move...

This private thing is a hassle. 

I'm moving on with my blogging, moving to a new spot.

Will you follow me?

There's not much there yet, and I don't know what will become of it, but I've started a new blog:

Miss Stewart A.K.A. Mrs. Seaman

If you'd like to follow, subscribe in your reader, or subscribe by email, I'd be so thankful!

I apologized

I am hesitant to write this post because I don't want to appear to be seeking, "Atta Girl!" comments from my loyal friends.  Mostly, writing this out is my way of working through my feelings.

Brad, who has struggles of his own, suggested I pray about how to work with his family situation.  I admit, though I do pray for them, I really was getting sick of it all.  But to honor my husband, I prayed.  A week ago Wednesday, I woke knowing I needed to apologize for my behavior.  I came to my computer and quickly but thoughtfully drafted two letters.

Keeping them short, less than a page at 14 point font, I told his daughter (and husband) and son (and wife) I was sorry for things I had done to make the relationship with their father more difficult for them.

Then, I mailed the letters.

It felt really good--a calm and peace came over me.  As I slipped them in the mail slot, I knew it didn't matter if either was answered, that I had said my piece. It didn't matter if the letters were mocked, ignored, or if they stirred up anger.   I didn't do it to be the "better person," or to make a calculated move because this is no game.  I did it because it seemed to be the right thing to do. I did it because it was best for me.  So in that way, I was being selfish. (Therefore, no pats on the back.)

I still have moments of wanting to detail each hurt and wanting to defend or at least explain myself.  I'm not so good at the all encompassing forgiveness.  There's my ugly confession.   Still, all-in-all, the peace is what remains strongest.

His daughter answered my letter with an email.  I'm not sure what's next from here, I'm not sure there needs to be a next.  I think that's peace again.

I like it.

My Bucket Pales

I don't have a bucket list. 

I think that makes me officially the most boring person on Earth.

This came to me last week as Brad was deciding whether or not to go skydiving with a group from our church.  He told me, "It's always been on my bucket list."  Huh.  I had no idea.

Then I realized I have no list.  I mean, I think of things like, "It would be nice to see the Grand Canyon," or "Gee, I wonder if I could take better photos with a nicer camera," but I don't set those as goals for myself.  Perhaps I should?  Perhaps I'm just stupidly content with life as is?

So my questions for you are:

 Do you have a bucket list?  If so what's one thing that's on it?

Oh, and Brad decided to not go jumping.  It's not because he has back disease (and in my opinion should not), it had more to do with the company's rain check policy.  Instead, he wants us to go on a hot air balloon ride.  I'll join him in the basket, even thought it's not on my list...

photo source

H2O

I suppose it started with my parents' generation, it's solidly ensconced in my generation, and it's been passed down to those younger--the idea of convenience.  In my childhood, things became disposable because throwing away was just easier than reusing.  From pens, to diapers, to razors, to plastic bags, to diapers so many one-use items get tossed without a second thought.

Go back to the 60s, 70s or even the 80s, wouldn't you have laughed at the idea that we'd buy water?

This graphic was shared by my friend Rick on facebook, I shared it there, pinned it, and I'm sharing it here (it should hurt to see it again and again). 

I'm not a fan of bottled water, and I sure don't keep it in the house. If I'm out and buy some, I'm the geek who carries the bottle home to recycle, I can't help it.  I reach into the trash at school to retrieve students' and staff members' bottles to recycle.  I get twitchy at the grocery store when people load up their carts with cases of the stuff.  But even I was surprised by these numbers. 

Take a look:

If you don't carry a refillable container, will you start?  Yes, plastic can be recycled, but only one time.  It's not the wonder material that aluminum or glass are--they can be recycled over and over. 

I just can't help but think of and feel guilty for the mess the future generations will be stuck with thanks to our easy and convenient habits.

Monday Minis

I have lots of little random things rolling around in my thoughts this morning...

• I much prefer my consistent fast walking of three miles over my slow running in fits and spurts.  AND, I'm feeling a difference in my legs.  Yay! 
• Letters went out on 8/1 to tell students who their teachers are.  This is peculiar to me because right now the fourth grade classes sit at 32 kids each (I had 21 kids last year), and there's a chance we might get another section.  So I'm hearing from kids who may be moved to another class.  (My principal said a disclaimer was included in the 4th grade letters.)
• Speaking of school, I have to get over there.
• I don't want to until I know what number of kids I'm setting up for!
• I'm rereading one of my favorite books, Too Busy Not to Pray by Bill Hybels. It changed my life the first time through, the second time through, and I have a feeling it may do the same this time.
• When stress hits me I purge.  I used to not eat, so this is much healthier.  Things purged:  facebook friends, pins on pinterest, old email addresses, clothes and basement and garage stuff to Goodwill.  I'm even excited to say we're driving Mac's futon to Chicago, a friend wants to buy it--over an hour trip for those of you who aren't local.  A few things are going on Craigslist too.  Take that stress.
• That's what a control freak I am.
• This was a bad back weekend for Brad.  On Saturday, I came home from giving blood to find him doing some edging for me (I didn't ask), and he then spread some mulch.  Now he's paying for it.  I feel awful for him.  The meds he has to take just to be able to move make him so sleepy.  He asked me to pinch him in church so he wouldn't fall asleep!  I did, but I didn't like it.
• Mac's overnight work schedule is a challenge to work around. (He works Tues-Sat nights, 10-6 at the Trib.) On his days off, he still keeps the same sleep schedule.  So he's home and about to go to bed, only to get up "early" so we can head to Lisle, getting there before six, for some best man suit rental  measurements on the way to the big city.  
• I went to a wedding shower at Francesca's in Naperville yesterday for my friend Amy.  Great food and nice people to hang around with.  She looked beautiful and she graciously received many fun household items. 
• Two creative gifts, a basket of wine for "first" occasions, each bottle came with a poem (and there was sparkling juice for when she finds out she's pregnant), and a gift card in a frame with wrapped in a dishtowel.  
• It's true, my yard flowers know the difference between rain water and hose water, and they prefer the former. 

 Have you ever seen someone so pleased to receive a salad spinner?

Sorry for the grain, I took this with my phone from my seat.

What random thoughts do you want to share with me?  Feel free!

It IS Me

You all have been so gracious with your support of the frustrating and painful family situation I have found myself in and the privatization of this little blog. Trust me though, I haven't been so innocent in all of this.  On occasion, I pushed back when pushed.  So it was funny when I saw this on facebook yesterday...I sure could see this as God sending me a very clear message!

 (Posted on facebook by People of the Second Chance)

I have been praying about this for the five years Brad and I have been married.  The focus of my prayers needs to change to more of me and less of them.  Usually we Christ Followers state that a bit differently, but the timing of this message was spot on.  I must change.

Trust me also, when I share this blog will not become a place where I gripe about step-situations!  That's not my goal at all.

This was one of the verses for our Jesus Calling devotional the day I was deciding what to do with this blog.  I had already hidden it and was thinking of deleting it completely  Again, God's timing is perfect--though we don't always see it that way.

Time to move forward and build up.

Have a lovely Sunday friends!

Walking and Counting

Last month, I wrote about walking versus running.  I learned that walking is probably better for me.  I have had a quest for some time to become a runner, and though I worked hard at it, it was always a push, always a (literal) pain.

My running style?  Slow and lumbering.

So I decided to walk.  Fast.  It's been a bit over two weeks now, I can walk faster than I can run, and I can walk at that faster speed for up to three miles (I haven't tried more, three is good).  I started at 4.0 mph, but each week I've upped it a tenth, and this week I've been successful at walking three miles (a 5K) at 4.2 twice.  Interesting since I couldn't run even one mile at 4.2 just a few weeks ago. 

I did have some shin splint pain at first, but nothing like I did when I run.  I stretch a bit first, and I wear my shin sleeves and, looking pretty in purple, they have helped.

Brad is pleased.  He wasn't a fan of my running, he was always worried I was doing more harm than good.

Walking at 4.0-4.2 compared to my former walks of 3.5 mph with a book to read burns significantly more calories.(Although I can't read at this pace.  Bummer.)  I don't dread exercise any longer, and that's a bonus since in a few short days I'll be doing it at, as my friend Betsy says, "The buttcrack of dawn," or before I head off to school.

Progress?  Yes.  I wanted to be able to complete a 5K distance by summer's end, and suddenly I'm doing it with more speed.  That's a surprise, but the bigger surprise is that I'm walking to do it.  I'd like to get to a faster walk, and in time, I'm confident I will.

The counting part?  As I worried less about body image and more about being mentally healthier in regard to self-image, I ate more this summer than usual.  I'd like to blame that on three things: Al, Mike, and a Cow.  Al, my 5'10'' niece wears a size 2.  While she lived here, when we were out we'd often get a treat.  Mike, well he makes the delicious hard cranberry lemonade that called to me each evening.  The Cow?  You know that "Skinny" one whose frozen cones and bars tempt with fewer calories?  Well, not when I eat two a day!

Hey, even fewer calories add up.  On me, they added up to about seven pounds beyond where my pants fit.  So, for the first time ever, I'm working toward healthy body image through calorie counting, portion size, and nutrition. Crazy eh?

And now, a treat has to be just that, once in a while versus a couple a day.  Sad, but true.  Happy but true will be the day I fit back into every pair of pants again.

This Wall is My Nemesis

There is a lot to like about our master bedroom.  It's a large size, and it has a nice layout.  The furniture Brad brought into our marriage is sturdy, lovely, and the pieces fit the room well.  The room's potential is fabulous.  However, its decor reality is dullsville.  I took pictures to post here and in reviewing them was struck by how plain it is (and not just because we currently have no curtains).  I just cannot post the photos. I'm loyal to my home, and I willnot embarrass it that way!  (However, those photos are being saved for when the new is ready to reveal!  On that day, I will even take the back massager off the Shaker rocker.)

I have invested some time this summer looking at on-line stores, home sites, and even Pinterest to find ways to spruce it up and finish our master bathroom (I think the home shows call it an en suite).  I have found some good ways to work with what we have by adding a few things to make it look restful and updated  I have in mind new linens, curtains (think we need them?), two lamps, new shades, throw pillows, mirrors, art, and paint colors  Not magazine worthy or even "pin" worthy, but all good and welcoming. Brad even talked about painting the furniture, but with seven pieces in the room, I'm hoping we can work with it as is--in its currently not trendy golden oak shade.

I was ready to start shopping and to ask Brad to start painting (and eventually install some crown--shhh), until he reminded me...

This wall seemingly has no insulation.  He wants to fix it.  He needs to fix it.  It would benefit us greatly if he did.  To do so he has to rip down sheet rock, have spray insulation installed, and install new sheet rock. The entire wall will be coming down.  He'd like to do it before fall.  I'd like that too, because my side of the bed is there (brrr), and because I cry each time I open our heating bill.  Can you say, "Ka-ching?"  The gas company does each time it issues us a bill.

These pillows?  They are huge, and all last winter they sat in front of the wall under the window to block the breeze.  They no longer match (what I like to call) our (interim) bedding, but I didn't want to redo them or donate them in case winter should come again.  I believe it will.

(Two years ago, we added a lot more insulation to the attic, and it helped some, but it's the great white north on the window side of our room October through April.  If one took one of those thermo-detecting photos from the outside of our home, this widow would scream RED!!!!)

So dear and valuable readers, these measly to snaps are my before photos. My big summer to do list project has stalled.  One day this winter, you will see an after.  Either that, or I will come back and delete this post, and I will continue to shed tears once a month--weeping not due to hormones but due to natural gas costs.  I will start climbing over Brad each morning so I don't have to leave the warmth of my bed on the drafty side of the room.

Plan*:

White bed linens

Two rectangular mirrors over the low dresser (portrait orientation)

Pinky beige walls with a pale blue ceiling (this will have to be sold to the hubs...)

Pillows in burlap, pink, blue, and other pastels

A floor lamp in the alcove

A lamp for the low dresser

Cream shades for the bedside lamps

Rod raised higher (not as pictured) for curtains yet to be found--something breathy and light...

Bedroom ceiling color for bathroom
Cream towels

Drab as it is now, our bedroom is cozy. I want to make it cozier, warmer, and warmer.

*You know what they say about best laid plans, right?  But this is what I'm working with, and it seems like it will make all the difference.

Ten Most Annoying Sounds--Listicles!

I almost forgot it's Monday, and I almost forgot to check Stasha for her listicles prompt.  That would be two weeks in a row without a listicles here.  Two weeks too many, I dare say.

Today's prompt asks to play along by listing ten sounds that drive me crazy.  Okay, I restated it, it's actually the ten sounds I find most annoying.

This is a tough one.  It all depends on my mood and setting.

1)  Static on the radio.  Anytime.  No satellite radio for this cheapskate.

2)  The garbage truck as it idles near our home from 5:00-5:30 a.m. every Wednesday, then stops at our house first at 5:30 with the wildly loud and high pitched squeak of its brakes.  (Though technically I get up at 5:30, this is not how I liked to be wakened.)

3)  The intercom at school interrupting my class so the secretary can inform kids who is picking them up end of day.  Ridiculous reminders in most cases.  (Rarely emergency changes in schedule, "Just a reminder that Jaimie has Girl Scouts today, and Mom will pick her up in the commons after Girl Scouts with all the other Girls Scouts' parents, and you can tell they're Girl Scouts because they are all wearing their sashes!"  And then it bings again with another message, sometimes the same one for a different child.  (I feel for the secretaries who field these calls from about 2:30-3:30 every day for every class.)

Note:  This is just an example, I have never had a Girl Scout receive such a message.

4)  The lady at church who affirms just about everything the pastor says.  "That's right!"  "Amen!"  "I can't believe that!" (In an affirming way.)  "God is good!"  "Oh, I know what you mean!"  If she did it once in a while, that wouldn't be bad, but she is distracting.  She's also a greeter, and when my husband told her I try to not shake hands due to arthritis, she announced that too as we entered service one night, "Oh that's right, YOU DON'T shake hands!!!"

We try to not sit by her, but sometimes it just happens.

5)  My own singing.  It's worse that awful.

6)  Bass heavy crap music that emanates from cars around me in traffic.  The vibration is ridiculous.  Thanks, but I'd like to keep my fillings.

7)  Whining--when kids do it, I do it back. They realize it's ineffective with me.   And they find it's annoying too.

8)  Low talkers.  This past year I had a class of kids full of kids who talked a lot, but when they'd come to me (for help, mind you) they'd mumble.  Their parents assured me they were not shy or afraid of me.  I'd try to turn my ear to them and lip read, ever tried that at the same time?

9)  Weatherfolks and newscasters telling me to drink lots of water, check on neighbors, and go to a pool because of the heat.  Really? I did not know that, I especially don't remember you telling me that, um, yesterday when we also faced a high well above ninety.

10)  The sound of any conversation that includes the words chick and fillet.  

If this list makes me sound cranky, well, so be it!  (But I promise you I'm not.)

Allow Capture

Here's another repeat, this time from December 2008.  As women, this is something to keep in mind.

Today, I had the pleasure (strange word perhaps) of attending a funeral. The woman who died was the mother of John who attends our church, Community Christian Church. He asked Brad to officiate at her service. I went along for three reasons: respect for John and his wife Madeline, to be Brad's navigator (we only got turned around once), and to see my husband in minister action.

He offered such comfort to the family--I was sitting behind them, and as he spoke they nodded their heads at times, laughed at times, and wiped their eyes at times. I did too. What Brad provided them, with the gift God has instilled in him, was needed and important. I was proud of him.

After his talk, Brad stood at the casket as people walked up to see their mom, grandma, sister, friend, and neighbor one last time. I hung back, waiting until the room emptied to look at the photos the family had collected.

There were school portraits from back in the 30s. Miss Mavis was an anti-aircraft gunner in her native Britain in WWII when she met her American soldier husband. So there were striking photos of the two of them together. But the photos that pulled at my heart were all the candid snapshots that included generations of her family.

It occurs to me that many of you who read this blog are moms. I feel compelled to share this with you in particular.  Family pictures of others are beloved by us, but pictures including us, pictures of us will be essential to our families one day. 

I don't mean to come of macabre, I'm not only speaking of filling a funeral planning need. There will be other times of reflection when they will need to see us.  Don't hide behind the camera only taking the pictures. And, the next time someone takes out a camera, don't worry about your hair or your make-up, your weight or your outfit. Let the person behind the camera capture you.
 

When I looked at the boards filled with photos, I didn't notice Miss Mavis's hair, make-up, or even her wrinkles. I noticed love. How blessed they are to have all those visual memories to add to those memories stored in their hearts.

Let's allow our families to create plenty of the same.

True

Savor the remainder!

Friday Questions

Should one give money to church in order to spread the word of Jesus, or should money be given to charities/missions who do the work of Jesus and therefore invite the recipients to learn of Him through love?

Does a tithe have to go only to a (my) church or can some go to an organization that lives Jesus amongst people who may not be believers?

This is what I've been thinking about lately.  It's not much of a post, but I have to share my heart--confused as it is.

Table Project

Last night, I spent about an hour going through family photos in order to find a picture of...a table.

I came close dozens of times, but for all the decades--six--this particular table has been in our family, it has managed to elude my camera pretty well.

In the 60s, counter space was at a premium in my parents' little ranch home.  One day, my father brought home a counter height butcher block table for my mom.  Brand new, he spent all of $5 on it.

In May of 1969, our family moved across town, and that table was cut down and used in our family room, first in that house and then in our Naperville house.  Purpose served from 1969 to 2001, family room end table. In all the years our dog Schnapps was around, he hid under it during every thunderstorm and 4th of July.   In 1988 though, my car loving boy took over that table, and while it still held a lamp and magazines, it also became his "carsandtrucks" table.  He played on it for hours a day.

When my father died and we sold the house, Mac and I got the table which we used as an end table in our condo.  See it there at the end of the couch? (This photo was snapped only weeks after moving in because those blinds went soon after!  I can't help but dig the treadmill in the living room...eek!)

I married Brad in 2007, and the table was then used in Mac's ISU rental house and NIU apartment.  It resided as a coffee table for three grad students in Baton Rouge for two years, and just this month it returned to Illinois in a stinky rental truck.  Water stained and marred, I was itching to glue the top,  which had been split for about ten years, and then refinish it.

Needing some big clamps, We took it to our friend Walt's house, put it up on his workshop bench and saw much more damage and some flaws we'd missed.  Since it now belongs to Mac, he has opted to shed its mismatched and falling apart legs and frame.

Frame--a mystery wood when compared with the top.

With Walt's help, and a little of mine, he has decided to salvage the top and find a table redesign for it.  They biscuited the top back together, then they sanded, and sanded some more. (I helped a bit.)

Not an after, but a "so far" picture.  

Once a design is chosen, supplies are purchased, and time is set aside to work, it will become a table again. 

As I composed this post, I was reminded of Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree.  This table has served us--from my mom through Mac--well, and it remains important, even in its yet to be repurposed form.  Mac might not like the expression of this, but it is my hope another child races cars across it.  In time.

Beauty in Death

Overwhelmed by Pins

Yeah, Pinterest.  I like it.  I use it.  I've written before that I'm kind of (beyond) weird about it.  I try to keep my number of pins to below 500 (it used to be 400), and I'm overwhelmed by people who pin a lot.  So I pick and choose who to follow and/or which of their boards (love that option) I follow.  Really, this may be old school of me, but I do the same with magazines.  I'm not much of a page ripper, recipe keeper, or catalog corner bender.  I often recycle the latter without even opening them.  I am overwhelmed by wishlists.  (I'm pretty sure that makes me super boring.)

I'm sometimes intimidated by all the good decorating taste floating around in Pinland, and I'm daunted by all the truly artsy and talented crafty folks out there.  The cooks? Forget about it!  They've got me beat.  The fitness folks--all more cut than I am! The clothing folks, well-dressed--to the nines.  Gulp!  I'm just not fabulous in any of those areas.   (I am a true dilettante.)

So when I came across the above ecard (on Pinterest, of course) late yesterday, I had to pin it because it cracked me up! (And it made me feel a little better.  But only a little...)

That's why I've kept this pinned for months:

http://graceserenity.tumblr.com/post/8108536402

You know, in spite of all I'm lacking--or, in the case of cellulite, gaining--life is good!

Christmas in July

I have decided.

Are you ready?

I have decided I have a love/hate relationship with everything crafty.  Basically, I'm impressed by just about everything everyone else does,* but when I attempt something, I tend to see the outcomes as another word that starts with cr and rhymes with trap.  It's caused me to really hesitate before considering any project.

Regardless of this revelation, I opted to have a "Christmas in July" party on Friday night.  About nine of us got together and ate holiday food (dips and sweets), and made some ornaments.  I love having friends over, and I never stress (you can tell by my decor) in doing so because my friends are the best guests ever!

Instead of going nuts with decor, or going through my Christmas boxes in the basement to find even a few things, 

I just laid Hefty bags on our kitchen table and covered it with wrap to protect our work space. 

We were all so relaxed, I didn't take a single picture during the party.  Blogger fail.

I (can you believe it) showed them how to make mini-canvas print ornaments, and theirs turned out better than mine. Sorry, no photo available, at least not today, but soon.

My guests shared their ideas too.  We saw beautiful cross stitch, wine cork ornaments, and snowmen orbs.  My friend Amy worked on one of these for a while.  Then many of us made these glitter globes, they were the party favor, and I am so in love with them.  Wait, did you catch that?  I made something I actually like!

They're all over the internet, so I'm just adding this tutorial to the 'Net jumble.

Supplies needed:

Glass ornaments from Michael's or similar

Floor polish

Extra fine glitter 

Stickers

(and ribbon, though none of us did that, yet)

A picture note, this is what the floor polish I used looks like--

And though many on-line directions specifically mentioned Martha Stewart glitter, I used this which was much cheaper--

How to:

1) Remove cap from ornament and squeeze in an ample amount of polish.  There's no such thing as too much.
2) Holding your finger over the ornament hole, swish the polish around, and yes, it's okay if it foams.  Make sure all of the inside of the ornament is touched by polish.
3) Pour all the polish back in the bottle.
4)  Pour glitter in the ornament and holding your finger over the hole, move the ornament to spread the glitter around.  You may have to pour more glitter in.  (I did this step over the sink.)  Hold the ornament up to a light to check for glitter coverage, and again, add more glitter if needed.
5)  Cap ornament.
6)  Add sticker embellishment.  (These script letters were from the scrapbook section at Michael's.)

I was glad I selected silver because the letters tie in well with the silver caps.  I made a few more after the party for friends who couldn't come, and then I made the G for a tutoring family, the Joy for me, I plan to make these for my classroom helper moms come December, and I will be making more for my home.

Last year I added a lighted garland to this spot.  This year, I'm going to add some poppy red, bronze, and olive green glitter orbs to it.  I don't like to totally redo my home at Christmas, but I'd like to jazz this area at the top of our stairs up a bit.  Those colors will tie in with the scheme in the hall.

(An afterthought.  These are so easy, kids 7 and up could make them with supervision.  In that case, I'd recommend folding a piece of foil or similar over the ornament opening.  Child-sized fingers just wouldn't be big enough.)

So, there you have it.  Just when I make a definitive decision, a life experience challenges it.  Gotta love that!

*Oh, one craft I ran across recently that was beyond ridiculous?  A felt apron for a dish wash bottle.  Don't you just want one of those on your counter?  Eek!  (And nope, I won't link it, that is too mean!)

Good to Great

     I wrote this post in September 2008.  When first published, some people decided I was writing about a family member, and therefore the main point was overlooked. Even though hitting "publish" back then resulted in some still remaining misunderstanding, I'm doing so again (with some minor style edits) because, well, because it is good. 


     Since starting this blog over the summer, I've done quite a bit of web searching and I've looked at many other blogs and social networking sites in effort to get up to speed. I learned I'm only just getting in gear...but it's a start!

     I came across this quote one day, "Good is the enemy of great."  Featured prominently on a thirty-something woman's page, it had no explanation. I was left to infer, after looking more at her page, that she finds herself to be great, her kids to be great, her friends to be great, and perhaps the rest of us, well, not to be.  Hey, if that works for her, I'm certainly not going to call her out on it.

     However, the words stuck in my mind.  They seem to say being good is not enough.  Good should mean up-to-par, but somehow it means sub-par.  Good in any sense might mean settling for something less than it could be. 
     So, today I googled.  I found these words connected to sports, to photography, to numerous products, and I learned they're the catchphrase from a wildly popular book on business by Jim Collins.  Then, of course, I had to look up Jim Collins.      Turns out I could have just looked behind me. Brad has a copy on our office bookshelves, and I believe his son recommended it to him, and Brad has since shared it with others.

     The phrase has also been attributed to Voltaire. So I had to look him up. He was a French Enlightenment writer, philosopher, and defender of civil liberties circa the 1700s. Voltaire was a deist. That's a moralist who believes in a hands-off God or in no God at all.

Voltaire

     Have you ever looked up a word in the dictionary only to find you also then have to look up a words from the definition to even begin to understand the word you initially had to look up? One site credits Voltaire with, "Better is the enemy of good." A variation on the theme of the current quote, or perhaps something altogether different.  
     ANYWAY:  With apologies to the woman, Mr. Collins, and perhaps even the late (and great) Voltaire, I have to share: 

Good is great.

Good means exactly as God intended. 

      Not my idea, but something I learned from church and carry with me.

     After all, the word good is used SEVEN times in the very first chapter of the Bible. (Yes, I looked that up too.)  As in, "And God saw that it was good."

We are all good.

Good is from God.

Divorce

The other day, Mac and I were at Home Depot pricing things for a new bed we were planning to dig on the side of the house.  I took out my phone to make notes of prices, and I found this random thought, "If this were a marriage we'd be divorced by now."

Not eloquent in its phrasing.  True.

One day on the way to work I stopped--mentally, not with the brakes--and thought only about God.  His love for me is unfathomable, but my love for Him?  It's there, it grows in fits and spurts, but I sure do take Him for granted.  So at the next red light, I made that note.

God has loved me since before I was born.  I fell in love with Him in 2005.  Since 2005 I have had moments of wild love and moments of forgetting He exists.  He is always here for me, but I am not always even aware of Him.

Grounds for this divorce?  Abandonment.  No judge would take a second look at God's paperwork.  I would hang my head as that gavel hit, guilty.

I am thankful, blessed, and forgiven.  He will remain my God through all my changes in attitude, and throughout my moments that lack in passion.  I realized that as I made this note, as I came across this note, and as I write this.

"But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever."  Psalm 52:8

He tends to me.  He feeds me.  He loves me.  Unfortunately, with trust comes overconfidence, in my overconfidence in God, I ignore Him.