So sorry for the delay but...

I know I am supposed to begin the journey through my past but the past few weeks have taken me on another that I need to share. It is all about the power of kindness. Remember this kitty that Scott rescued from certain death while we were in Papua? So much had to be done to make sure it survived. Scott did the most and I am sure it was his kind and tender touch.
If you are married you know all about those times in marriage when things just break down. Whether you fight out loud or quiet, conflict is a reality for marriage. Maybe some of you are so compatible that conflict rarely rears its ugly head...but for some of us we seem less compatible and more confrontational.
Scott and I fight quietly...we get mad or irritated or whatever and we get distant and quiet. Unfortunately for us...we are both like that. We have endured about 2 weeks of quiet and the silent treatment. It is amazing how little you can say if you organize your routine just so. He is stubborn as a mule, I am stubborn as an ass... it has been such a lovely time (sigh).
Inevitable...something rips us out of our reverie and silliness and we vocalize. This time we learned an amazing lesson...kindness.
If we treat each other with small acts of kindness it is hard to drift away to hostile silent land. The gentleness that rescues lost broken kittens works as well with broken relationships. Being tender, gentle, attentive...those things work. I forget easily how fragile a marriage relationship can be....and yet how much it can endure.
We ended our stalemate with kindness...maybe it will also guard us from drifting as well.

Heads up

In a few days I am going to be traveling back in time. This April will be the 10th anniversary since Curtiss's death (my first husband). It seems a life time ago but what I would like to share is the journey. I found my diary the other day and I wanted to share it with you. The journey through grief is universal...maybe my journey will shed some light on yours. To clarify as well....Curtiss and I had been married 14 years. The last 4 years before his death he was dealing with his addiction to alcohol. The journey of grief began 4 years prior to his death. So in my journey of grief, the echos of addictions tyranny will also be heard. I have never really talked at lengtht about how I traveled through that valley of the shadows....maybe it is time.

Hope

Mocha...where are you?

Remember in the garden when Adam and Eve....God kept calling them, not that He did not know where they were, just gave them a chance to make it right before He did? We have a similar situation here with Mocha...not that I am God...BUT :).
Whenever I leave the house in the morning to take the kids to school I make sure there is nothing at nose level for Mocha to reach...but I always seem to forget that one thing. It has happened so often now that whenever I come home I know right away she has done something or she thinks she has done something...she is hiding.
She is an all brown dog and it is quite amazing how easily she can be out of sight in the shadows cowering and waiting to see my rage. To be honest...I have and do yet still get quite angry with her depending on her transgression. Today...it was a box of Kleenex that she decided was fun enough to rip apart. In the past it has been coffee cups, mail, flowers, pens, plastic bags, magazines...and whatever she finds at her level of interest. I have gotten mad enough in the past (sorry PETA) that now every time I come in after dropping the kids off she is hiding. She might as well as have done something for all the emotion she expends being afraid of me for that first 10 minutes. She will not come to me and she will not look at me even if she is clean of all wrong doing. I try to prevent the temptations and think of all the things she can do but baby/Mocha proofing the house ..she always gets something different. What she ignored before she will pull down this time...maybe I should call her Adam.
The thing is I continue to be Adam/Eve when it comes to my relationship with God. He has never treated me the way I treat Mocha YET when I fail in all the similar ways that I do ..I will hide, not talk, refrain from Him. Why do I hide? Is it the whispers of the Old Testament and His wrath that makes me feel He will this time come unhinged at my transgression? I hide in the shadows trembling at His presence...telling myself that I have gone too far in my faithlessness.
Come He says...just come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden. Tired Heidi, weary of the mess you have made...Come, I will give you rest.

The Sound of ...

silence.

It is in the waiting that silence is loud. 11 PM and I am waiting for Mijo to call and tell me that the play is done. The 30 minutes before I fall asleep and everything I do not want to think about...I think about. The silence before the kids get up in the morning. Waiting for the next event, interruption, phone call...quiet.

The silence of this audience is a bit unnerving at times. The open stillness of the farm fields syncopated by the crunch of my shoes. God...His quietness shrieks across my faith.

Silence...it calms me as it rattles me.

Got to...Get to

A strange thing happened on the way to the running fields. The kids and I have been off for mid-winter break and Scott is gone all weekend at drill so it falls on me to run the dog. You know the love/hate relationship I have with Mocha...needless to say if the weather holds I go and run the dog on a stretch of road not far from the house.
As I was driving her and yelling at her to sit down...long story...I realized a strange emotions coming over me. I really don't mind her at all AND I really don't mind running her in the least. I get to run her rather then I got to run her (sorry for the really bad grammar). Attitude makes all the difference in the world...just like our parents told us every time we had to do the chores. So where else can this wonderful attitude apply...I have to work, I get to work: I have to clean the house, I get to clean the house: I have to go to church, I get to go to church: I have to go grocery shopping, I get to go grocery shopping: I have to work out, I get to work out...
It is as easy as that...well, maybe.
I heard myself tell Nick the other day about attitude and chores...attitude and everything really. I don't really have to change my attitude, I get to change my attitude.

Church

Being, going to, hating, loving, frustrated with, have to go, want to go, member of, body of Christ, all of us together...church.

I don't know when it began but going to church is hard work for me. I don't know where our loyalty lies...with a local church, a denomination, the whole body called the church or the church that we attend looking at God's creation. I have talked to many who have stopped going to church who love Jesus with all their hearts, souls and minds. I know people who attend church every time the door is open and I wonder if they love at all.

Most Pastors I have heard are fair to middling...many seem to love the position they have, or adulation they receive then to serve the body. Some men...are servants, humble and

other-centered and how they preach is secondary to who they are. Music/worship is often loud, long and irritatingly routine. We sit , we listen..we leave. I wonder if this is what it was supposed to be. Setting a part the Pastor while not ordaining the laity seems to be contradictory...isn't the work of the gospel being done by those who carry it out into the market place? Oh I could go on and on and on...And Women...don't even get me started on that. The Life of me...a woman is set free on the mission field and shackled when she is home...WHAT IS THAT but racism and sexism.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Back to church... when can you change churches...should you change churches... can you stop attending ...what happens if you hate small groups...what happens if the doctrine of the church is weird but the community is solid...what if the Pastor loves himself but preaches a good sermon...what if sleeping in is the best way to get a sabbath rest.

We have been attending a church for 6 months now. The Pastor is a humble man, the church is friendly, the doctrine is solid, the music is loud, long and routine...I can't wait to come home. Nothing much for the kids to do...a bit out of our way...What are we loyal too? Can we leave?

Maybe, it is just me...the disenfranchised.

Just go..sit down..listen...come home, call it good and always wish it was better.