Stationary Always Puts Me In A Good Mood

I have dreamed of owning a really cool, somewhat retro custom stationary store. Going to Target and shopping for crayola markers, 50 cent composition books, chore charts, and a big world map will have to do in this stage of life. But you know what? It still makes me happy! When I was a teenager my little brother bought me a box of pretty stationary and purple scissors for Christmas - one of the best presents I've ever received. I ran out of the paper a few years back (although I saved it only for special occasions), but I still have my purple scissors which me and the kids use everyday. Needless to say they are getting very dull and I really should replace them (the scissors - not the kids!). But I'm a sentimentalist. And I'm cheap - okay, not that cheap.

If I could own a trendy little shop, I'd not only have retro funky stationary and cool classic stationary, but I'd have pens of every shape and size - pens that writers would use, pens that artists would use. I'd have fabrics and quilts, pottery, bath and body stuff (luxurious, not too expensive, hard to find stuff), and books - lots of books. Antique books, new books, blank books, journals. My friend, Minista Sista who is also known as Stylin' Sista, and I, dream about owning this shop together. All the things we'd have in the shop would be things that we love, things that you can't find anywhere else, things that local, unknown artisans & crafters have made, antiques that we'd find at estate sales or flea markets. Perhaps, in some corner of the room, next to the front bay window, we'd have coffee and bakery items with a couple round tables. It would be an eclectic kind of little shop. You'd have to be looking for it to find it, but it's reputation would be wide spread which would keep it in business.

If I can't travel the world and write, if I can't own a trendy, eclectic little shop, then when I'm in need of a little pick-me-up, I'll buy me some stationary. Or spend an hour or two in my favorite little shop - Hearts and Minds bookstore in the next town over.

What little things make you happy? And what dreams do you dream about?

I didn't Realize ...

... that the "streams in the wasteland" would be partially filled with my own tears. I guess that's how it works. Why didn't I know that?

To Leslie And All Who Love Bread Machines ...

... I need your advice. I have wanted to buy a bread maker since my highschool days but never have. I've been saving my coins for nearly 2 years now and have raised a total of $38.00. Yes, a pathetically sad amount. I am so disheartened. But my birthday is coming up and I always start a few months ahead of time trying to think up what I'd like for my birthday (I'm a dreamer). I think this year I'd like to buy a breadmaker - finally. It's one of those things that I can scratch off my bucket list. Just in this month I've been able scratch off trying moonshine. I'm going to have to come up with more bucket list items before I go through them all - cause what happens then? Yeah, I thought so too.

So a bread maker. Leslie, Sista D has told me you know a thing ar two about them. Do you have a preference in a make or model? A friend of mine really likes Breadman. Is there anybody out there who can give me some advise on the topic of breadmakers and making bread from them? I've done some research on the Internet, but I'd like to pick the brains of those I know.

Before And After

I went to church this past Sunday. I should have stayed in bed. I debated the merits of going to church while I was cozy in my bed. Every time I miss a Sunday everyone tells me I missed a good sermon. God's punishment for me not going to church is missing a good sermon. Who knew? I decided, while half-asleep that morning, that even if the sermon was no good, the worship team would be. So I went to church. Alone.

I should have stayed in bed.

I don't remember much of the sermon except it was on my favorite (sarcasm here friends) Bible character Paul. It was about his amazing before and after picture. His testimony. Now, who could beat that? A Pharisee murdering Jew, killing off the new Church members gone over to his enemy's side after an amazing encounter with the Lord - turned into one of the Church's most influential missionary of his time, converting Jews and gentiles into becoming followers of Christ. My story doesn't even come close. But her story does. At least, a little bit closer.

A young woman gave her "testimony" this past Sunday, the Sunday I should have missed. Her life before she met Christ was full of unhealthy decisions with hard consequences I'm sure she's still paying for. But she started coming to my church. And she got involved. And before you know it she's crossed the line of faith. And by that I mean her eyes have been awakened to the truth of our Creator and the Word, and she decided she needed to have a relationship with Him. As I heard her tell her story, I saw her passion, I saw her excitement and love for the Lord. It was like viewing a bride and groom on their wedding day. It was like seeing mushy mushy new couple love.

I was happy for her. But the overwhelming emotion I had was fear. For her. How will she be when life hits full force? When God lets her down? When her depravity seeps back in and guilt over shadow's God's promises and love? I wanted to protect her. I prayed to God to protect her.

But God told me that in order for faith to become real and deep, in order for our relationship with Him to become intimate and experiential, hard times must come. Times when you question the very foundation of our faith. When all we can do is come to Him empty handed because we've nothing to give. Nothing but a mess. And God would tell us it is a beautiful mess. But to my mind it is still a mess. And I see no beauty in it.

So I ask myself, like I asked myself last Sunday - how can I go from this:

If spirits could storm,

mine would be tearing

itself apart with lightning.

If hearts could dry up,

mine would be

withered and dirty.

I thirst for Living Water -

You hold it out to me.

I pretend I do not see you

and turn to walk away.

I drink the dust instead.

And die a little bit more.

But still, You're there,

inviting me in.

To this:

Matthew 11:28-30 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

To eventually find the promise He made me several months ago, (you will find that particular post HERE) :

Isaiah 43:19 "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."

It seems like such a long way to go. I so wanted my time of "waiting" to end. And now it's beginning to end. But I suddenly find myself not ready. My world is all out of my control. From my own thought life to my responsibilities as a wife, mother, friend, sister, and daughter. Everything is out of my hands. And, if you want to read a post on that from a few months ago, click HERE.

It's funny how the things I wrote of while in "the waiting" are now starting to haunt me. The things that God told me while I was in the labyrinth at church during the lent season are now ringing loudly in my ears. I saw this sign posted high on a far wall while sitting in the spring room " ... everything beautiful in it's own time ..." That part of the verse somewhere in Ecclesiastes is a promise God's given me even before I knew what would happen a couple months from then.

I am starting to see things so clearly. And I know I need to go to Him. So why can't I? What is preventing me? Why am I agonizing over something I know how to solve? Or perhaps I should write, why am I agonizing over things that I know the Lord can solve? And why won't I seek the One who I know is the only one who can help me?

Have you ever been there and done that? Making yourself a "self-made trap?"

That's where I am right now. Pin me down and label me in rebellion. Good God, He's warned me of this too.

Welcome To The Jungle!

Hubby killed two snakes yesterday - one from our wood pile out back and one from our basement - this one in the picture is from our basement. Lest you fear it's a copperhead and not want to venture out to our place anymore - let me put your fears at ease. We did the research. It's not a copperhead. It's a corn snake which is confused with the copperhead because they do look similar. I'm wondering if there are any other baby corn snakes in our basement and if the mother is somewhere around too?

Happy Birthday My Speedracer Sista!!!

If Today Was My Last Day ...

... and I knew it, I would hold my babies close. I would tell them all the strengths I've noticed in their character. I would tell them how deeply loved they are by me, their daddy, and their God. I would tell them to find and pursue the gifts and talents God gave them, and that one of the ways you can tell they come from God is that there will be an inclination and deep satisfaction while in the midst of using them. Do what you love. Follow your passion. And pursue God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I would also hold my love. I'd tell him what an amazing man he is. I'd tell him he means the world to me. He is soft hearted, patient, loyal, honorable, intelligent, witty, hard working, and one hot hubby! I'd tell him that God has even more adventuresome plans ahead for him. I'd plead with him to continue to pursue God and to love Him, to continue to use the gifts God's given him, and find out what gifts he has that he isn't as aware of. I'd tell hubby I've loved him for twelve years and that twelve years isn't enough.

I'd tell him I'll meet him by the tree too.

If this was the last day of my life I'd call my parents and brothers. I'd call my sistas. I'd make sure I told them I love them. I'd thank them for their love and friendship. I'd say, "see ya later!"

If this was the last day of my life I'd die in peace, knowing I love my Lord and that I'm going to Him and to those who've gone ahead of me. I'd know the ones I leave behind are in His good hands.


But that's all a big pile of crap.

So says the little red devil sitting on my left shoulder (or my alter ego, whichever you prefer).

That crap may be pretty, but it still stinks. There is a country song that says, "everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to go now." I have mixed opinions on that.

If God told me that today would be my last day, perhaps the following conversation would take place:

God: "Emily, today is your last day."
Me: "What?"
God: "Today is your last day Emily, I'm taking you home."
Me: "What? What do you mean 'taking me home'?"

(I can be quite the blonde at times)

God: "Today you'll be with me in paradise."
Me: "We're going to Chincoteague after all Lord? Thank God!"
God: "No sweet thing, your going to die. And then you'll be birthed into heaven. Today's your last day on Earth."
Me: "You've got to be kidding."
God: "No, I'm pretty serious."
Me: "I don't believe you! Who are you to decide? Who are you?"
God: "I am."

After my disbelief, anger would set in.

Me: "You can't do this! Who will take care of my babies? Who will run the house?"
God: "Oh, don't worry about that. I have a few good options for your man to choose from."
Me: "What! Already Lord? Well, she better be ugly and flat chested! And she better love those kids more than she loves herself!"

After my anger eases off my bargaining mode will kick in. I'd start giving God other options that might satisfy His killing tendencies.

Me: "How about you take such and such instead? If you take such and such, I'll throw in what's his name for free! Who can pass up a buy one get one free deal?"

(don't worry, I don't have any particular people in mind)

God (not amused): "That's not my plan."

Sulking will start. Then deep sadness. And then, if I've a mind to, perhaps the attitude I wrote of in the beginning will seep through.

That's if God tells me in the morning. But with God, all bets are off. Who knows His mind? He might just tell me in the evening, or with a few hours left to the day. I wouldn't put it past Him.

If this alter ego/little red devil part of my post seems to be irreverent in your opinion - I make my apologies. Part of me is battling some anger issues. And a wise friend told me that anger is part of grief and that in order to get through to the other side to peace and wholeness, I must let this anger run it's course. God can handle my anger.

I'm just not sure what or who I'm angry at. My mind tells me I can't be angry at God. He's the big kahuna, the one in control, the one who knows best. And anger at God is pointless, He'll bring me round to His side eventually anyway, and I'd probably go through more pain if I'd continue in my anger towards Him. The way I see it, I'm just being practical. Who wants extra pain?

But sometimes anger comes on strongly and instantly without my permission. Like when I'm talking to a loved one of Michelle's and they are having a hard time, or when I was in Dan and Michelle's house and everything is just the way it was before the accident, her shoes are lined up, her keys hung up, her phone on the counter, her purse on the half wall next to the stairs. These are times I get angry. And before I dwell in that anger too long, I stuff it back down.

So I don't know where to start with this anger business. And I'm afraid to. What if I get sucked in for too long? What if I lose sight of God? What if I would start to hate Him?

But I think He's calling me to it. I think He's inviting me in to the anger. And I guess I have to trust that if He invites me in, He'll eventually kick me out.

Right?

The song "If today was your last day" by Nickleback is #1 on my playlist right now - that's what gave me the inspiration to write this.