Juggling with Chainsaws

Did you see the very passionate verbal exchange between Rosie O'Donnell and Elizabeth Hassellbeck of The View last week? I'm sure you have. It's been all over the media. Their choice words for one another vigorously defending their points - wait - what were their points?

Or, in more recent news, the email that infamous celebrity Nichole Richie sent to all of her closest skinny, alcohol swilling friends, inviting them to her place to "drink until we pass out," to celebrate the brave men and women who sacrificed for their country? A simple friendly invitation to a Memorial Day barbecue she claims. A joke. And no, she didn't really have a scale at the front door weighing the girls like the invitation threatened: "No girls over 100 pounds allowed."

Then there's dear Lindsay. The sweet faced little one who stole our hearts in the delightful remake of "The Parent Trap" seems to be caught in a trap of her own these days. The trap of bad decision making and not having the good sense to at least make those bad decisions away from the flash bulbs of the ever-zealous paparazzi.

Choices. Life is full of them and the consequences to them can be great. They can ruin friendships, ruin careers, take us on a path of destruction and heartache. Or, choices can give us power. They can give us a voice. They can open up possibilities we never imagined would be ours for the taking. They can take us down the road of blessings, give us our heart's desire, bring us joy and peace we never thought possible. Our choices can inspire others and be the catalyst that makes this world better rather than worse. Build people up rather than tear them down.

I don't know what choices to make in all the unknowns in my life right now. I just know that I'd rather choose to juggle live chainsaws than intentionally hurt people with my words and actions. And yet, sometimes I fail. We all fail. So I can look at these celebrities with disdain and judgment and whisper a, "Thank goodness that's not my problem!" or I can offer up a little prayer for them all and ask that they get help and encouragement in their lives to make good choices.

Come to think of it, couldn't we all use that?

Candlelight Bliss

It's a season of introspection for us at the G-house. Things are changing. Kids are growing, becoming more independent and yet more in need of guidance and our time than ever. We are questioning. How are we doing as parents?

We have neighbors in transition. We lost our dear Mrs. T. earlier this year and for the past two weeks our beloved neighbor, Mr. R. has been struggling to survive serious heart problems. He's in the same wing of the local hospital where we said our goodbyes to Mrs. T. We've been trying to be good neighbors, caring for Mrs. R. in crisis and still watching out for Mr. T. who has now found a "lady friend" and tells us he is engaged. My Grandfather and my Uncle both married quickly after becoming widowers and it turned out badly for both. Needless to say, I'm cautiously optimistic for my dear neighbor but I hope the outcome is good.

We are questioning our roles at church. Where should we be serving? Are we going through the motions and falling in where others expect we should? Are we really using our gifts and passions for the Lord? Are we being a blessing to others or just spinning our wheels?

Me - I'm struggling with the desire to just shut the doors and hide for the next 29 years. If I didn't know better, I'd say I've got an acute case of people-phobia. (Maybe that's why blogging looks so good again all of the sudden!) My book club that I used to love is meeting tonight and I have absolutely no desire to go even though they are all lovely women whom I really like and respect.

Last night, Brad and I sat on our patio by candlelight. We laid it all out on the table so to speak and talked for nearly two hours about these topics and others. It was bliss. I am so amazed how God picked this man, the perfect man for me, to sit across from me on a warm spring evening and make everything OK just by listening and really hearing me.

When we finally came in at 11:00 pm last night, I said, "Can we do this every night?" He smiled and took my hand and I knew, that if I wanted, he'd be there every night with the candles lit. Yep, I picked a winner. I love you babe.

Blog or Bust

In my efforts to reform my bad habits, I'm going to try to post every day this week. Even if it's something short and sweet, I've got to get back into the practice of putting words to paper - or to screen, so to speak.

I thought I might take time to write about the reunion today, but that topic really needs more time (and just the right frame of mind). Maybe I'll tell you about a dream I had last night instead.

There's a woman at my church who is very respected and very wise. We've known each other for years as her kids are just a bit younger than I am. I respect her faith and her leadership. She was the first woman I ever heard speak from the pulpit of my church. We've worked together now for a couple of years on the women's Bible study team and earlier this year we all took a "strengths finder" test. We were amazed to see that we shared 3 of the 5 strengths. We're a lot alike in many ways.

And yet, this year, for some reason, we seemed to bang heads in discussions during our leadership training. Mind you, not knock down, drag-out things but conversations where I questioned some of her positions in light of the changing hearts and needs of women who are walking into our studies. I think we really agree on the core issues but some of the others, we seem to land at different conclusions.

Last night I dreamed we were at a retreat together. I was in our room listening to a secular CD and she stood outside the door and wouldn't come in until I turned off the music. She then began to lecture me about having too many secular influences in my life.

I won't bore you with our argument but let's just say I woke up with my heart racing and my mind whirling. At one point when I had stated my position in my dream she sighed heavily and said, "Well OK. I guess we'll let you help out at Vacation Bible School this summer." I wanted to scream at her - "I NEVER SAID I WANTED TO HELP OUT AT VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL THIS SUMMER! I SAID I WANTED TO WRITE STORIES THAT APPEAL TO ALL KINDS OF PEOPLE AND POINT THEM TO GOD!" Do you think maybe I have some frustration with her not "hearing" me this year?

Dreams are such funny things. I haven't seen this woman for a few weeks and yet, it's obvious that this issue is still in my heart and my head somewhere and will need to be dealt with. I wonder, is she just the representation of the fear I have that my "Christian" friends won't understand that perhaps the things I want to write won't be found in a Christian bookstore?

Add it to the list . . . the things that seem to stall me out.

And to top off the morning and my new commitment to post every day this week, here's a quote I "creatively borrowed" from someone else's blog awhile ago and sits on my desk for inspiration.

"I want to assure you with all earnestness, that no writing is a waste of time, no creative work where the feelings, the imagination, the intelligence must work. With every sentence you write, you have learned something. It has done you good. It has stretched your understanding. I know that. Even if I knew for certain that I would never have anything published again, and woudl never make another cent from it, I would still keep on writing. Brenda Ueland, "If You Want to Write"

Top Ten Reasons I'm a Flake

For your reading pleasure, I humbly offer . . .

Top Ten Reasons I have been a Flakey Blogger in the last month

10. Yard work. Though Mr. G. has done most of the hard stuff in this area, there's plenty of the administrative, managerial type work that has kept me busy. Sitting on my hiney on our comfy deck chairs sipping lemonade and saying, "Yes honey. I think shimying 25 ft up that ladder to trim wayward branches on that tree is a mah-ve-lus idea. *sip, sip* You go right ahead and be careful now!"

9. Making sure the feathered friends in our neighborhood don't starve. (See my last post.)

8. End of the school year broo-ha-ha. OK - I'm married to a teacher and I still don't understand this one. Why do teachers wait until the end of the year to do all the big report projects and testing? We've been learning all there is to know about Rhinoceros Beetles and Uterine Cancer. Go ahead, ask me a question . . .

7. End of the school year broo-ha-ha part deux. Not only do we have academic projects up the ying-yang, but they decide to do all the social activities at this time of year. Field trips, parties, field days, carnivals etc. Add church stuff to the mix and the little calendar boxes are looking pretty full these days!

6. Slow time at work. "What???" you might be saying. How is that an excuse for not blogging? You should have plenty of time on your hands. Yes, friends, it's true. There is a bit more flexibility and open space in my brain and in my time thanks to a slow down at work but unfortunately, my brain tends to hunker down in "power-save" mode during those times. I haven't done anything with my personal writing projects in weeks (head hung in shame). Any advice on this? I don't want to go back to the way it was (insane busy) but I need to find a happy place where the momentum of work and personal life keep me creative.

5. Playing with, er . . . learning how to use . . . the camera. Took a "day off" last Friday to play while the kids were at school and went back to the rose garden to try some more rose pix. Gotta love those digital cameras and the macro setting. It's the closest thing to meditation or yoga for me. Breathing deep, holding the camera still and trying to capture just a tiny bit of the beauty before me.

4. Planning the "Reunion from Hell" for my family this summer. Don't ask. I'll be blogging plenty about this in the days to come. I've said it before, I love my family, but in small doses. Someone had the brilliant idea that we spend 6 days in Sunriver this August together. (I'm praying for an emergency Root Canal that week.)

3. Speaking of dental work. Had my first crown put on. Agghh. That puppy hurt! My mouth was sore for over a week. (OK - lame excuse. I don't need to talk to type but I'll use it anyway.) But let me tell you, I have the best dentist in the world. He called me the night of my first appointment, the one where it felt like he drilled ten teeth down to nubby stubs while his lovely assistant nearly drown me with the slow trickle of water on the back of my throat. He called me at home at 6:30 pm that night just to check on me. I told Brad he was lucky he was such a good cook or I just might have to leave him to run away with my dentist.

2. Raising a tween. She turns 13 in less than two months and boy howdy, do we all know it. My brother-in-law said once raising a girl is "a fast ride on the Hormone Express". That pretty much sums it up. We've had lots of slamming doors (well, ok - not lots but some) PLENTY of ATTITUDE (with capital letters, a hand on hip and sneer on your face) and a fair share of DRAMA come our way. With more to come - oh joy.

1. And (drum-roll), the number one reason I haven't been a very good blogger lately is . . . . I have been trying to get through the 19 million books I have started reading in the past few years and are at various points of completion. I really had envisioned that by taking a vow earlier this year to buy no more new books and read the ones I have, I would see some progress. So far, not so much. The fun thing I have done for myself is start a new novel (one I bought a year ago). Haven't read one of those since January and I miss a good story. It's called "The Whole World Over" buy Julia Glass. She's the one I borrowed the title of this blog from (Three Junes). Seven pages into her new book, I remembered why she is one of my favorite authors. One of the characters laments how he "thinks too much" (something I can totally related to) and says "It wears down your soul. It's like grinding your spiritual teeth," Yes, yes, yes! Dear God, could I please write like that someday?

More soon . . . thanks for hanging in there with me!

Bird Envy

Last weekend, as we lingered on my in-laws patio after a scrumptious Mother's Day Barbecue, I watched in amazement as no less than 4 different varieties of birds snacked at one of their feeders. They were gorgeous and wonderful after-dinner entertainment.

Yesterday, I was at a friend's house out of the city and watched humming-birds and yellow breasted finches and red winged black-birds all find a snack in her back yard.

Something, stirred inside of me. I want pretty little birds visiting my back yard. I went to the store and bought premium, already shelled bird seed and filled three feeders in the back yard. Brad hung the bird house that he and the boy made from their Father/Son retreat back in March. I planted new, bright flowers in my planters.

OK birds . . . you can come now. Here birdy, birdy . . . .

Hmmm . . . not many takers yet. In the first 24 hours, only one very skeptical looking blue jay who took a nibble and then moved along.

Could it be I live in a community of bird snobs? Is my yard not good enough for their standards? I know we're all waiting for the world to change, but me, I'm also waiting for the birds to come.

(The birds in the photo came in a rush of wing-flapping and chirping on a Saturday morning last year. They are Cedar Waxwings and out Red Hot Firepokers are in full bloom again and we're waiting for this flock of birds to come back.)

The fun parts of being a mom . . .

Breakfast made by my favorite cooks. Strawberries and biscuits, a family tradition.
A book written by my favorite author. (My son - An alphabet book of Mom. My favorite entries: "A - You are awesome." "O - You are organized." and "V - Man, you are valuable.")
Music from my pre-teen daughter that she knows I'll love.
Flowers from my loving husband.
Precious time with my family. A wonderful mother's day!

Drinking from the Well of Inspiration

Here's a few nuggets of wisdom from artists through the ages to inspire me today. Feel free to share your favorite inspirations!

Since you are like no other being every created since the beginning of time, you are incomparable. Brenda Ueland, Writer, Journalist

Artists who seek perfection in everything are those who cannot attain it in anything. Eugene Delacroix, French Romantic Painter

It is within my power either to serve God or not to serve him. Serving him, I add to my own good and the good of the whole world. Not serving him, I forfeit my own good and deprive the world of that good which was in my power to create. Leo Tolstoy, Author of War and Peace and Anna Karenina

To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong. Joseph Chilton Pearce, Author

I merely took the energy it takes to pout and wrote some blues. Duke Ellington, Composer, Musician

“We are, ourselves, creations. And we, in turn are meant to continue creativity by being creative ourselves. Creativity is God’s gift to us. Using our creativity is our gift back to God.” Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

Now, what are we waiting for? Let's go play!

Bless your buttons . . .

I have the nicest most supportive blog friends around. Thanks for your kind words about my poem. I hope that I didn't demean the writers of poetry by my comments in my last post. I have great respect for them as writers. I think it's the most difficult form of writing in fact. If I choose to read poetry for pleasure, I'm much more likely to choose one of the classics the "newfangled" poetry (anything written after 1800) tends to make my head spin to the point of making me feel lightheaded (ok - that's a bit of an exaggeration).

In college I took a class entirely on Shakespeare's sonnets. I love the musical form of this type of poem and - well - anything that is written by the Bard is top shelf in my book. The professor made the class one to remember. He was a visiting academic originally from Scotland. Can you imagine the music of that poetry read by an educated, flamingly homosexual (by his own admission)5 foot tall Scottish chap? It was glorious. He was delightfully animated and expressive and the great imagery just leapt off the page. The guy was an expert in his field and I think I stressed out over my papers in that class almost more than the ones I wrote for my Medieval Lit. prof who was like a female drill sargent. Thankfully, I fooled him into thinking I knew what I was talking about and he generously graded both my papers with an "A".

Here's one that I really enjoy . . .

Sonnet 60
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Sunday Scribbling - Ocean

I am NOT a poet. I struggle with the idea of poetry. It's so subjective, so personal, so - not what I love about literature. It's not a story, not a piece of a story. It's like a slippery, jello-like, unstructured piece of a person's soul. I always feel weird writing poetry - like I'm trying to bead with a blindfold. Like I'm trying to write with my left hand instead of my right. It feels awkward, but I'm trying to experiment a bit with this foreign form and seeing how it might improve or refine my other writing.

Here's one I wrote during Spring Break while we were at Pacific City after a long walk on the beach by myself. God and I had a long conversation and I wrote this in response.

I wished for the glimmer
of a stray diamond to catch my eye
the promise of a problem solved.
You gave me a garden of jewels
shining, shimmering in the sand
all mine, with no cost
and a promise to bring
beauty and worth to this broken shell.

A dry well . . .

I started a Sunday Scribbling . . . and couldn't finish it.

I go to your blogs and read them and open a comment window

but . . . I'm out of words.

I started an article that I want to submit, but I can't seem to finish it.

I look at the notes for my novel, and I smile, and then I frown. No time for that right now.


The past few weeks have been filled with ideas, dreams, instruction, conversation, contemplation and work. Beetle projects, cranky pre-teens, conversations with caterers, business card designs, Bible study edits and plans for new ministry projects.

My dreams at night are filled with fights with bobcats, giant bears and searching through rooms of houses that are unfamiliar to me.

I've had a great couple of weeks where many of the projects that I've worked on have been recognized and praised. People have been overly generous with their kind words and yet, my well feels empty. How can this be? I feel connected to my God but my life feels like a whirling twister picking up bits of this, bits of that and leaving a mess behind it.

And so my friends, that's why the blog has been a bit empty. That's why I haven't been leaving you messages in your comments. I want to write. I want to share. I'm not sad. I'm not discouraged. I'm not upset. I'm just empty.

I'll work on getting filled this weekend. But don't give up on me, okay? I'll be back. Pinky swear.