I've decided to treat this blog as a "day in the life of" blog... A day in the life of a girl. A day in the life of a wife. A mom. An empty-nester. A grandmother. A daughter. A party planner. A dog person. A shopper. A Believer. A traveler. A football fan. a wanna-be artist. Or any one of the several hats that I wear. Maybe somedays you'll relate to my posts. Maybe somedays you won't... At any rate, it will be a use of my extra words. It will be a chat with a friend (that'd be you). It will be the sharing of a fine new discovery. It will be how I organized my pantry, which I did! It will be how I got on an airplane and cried when I left my grandsons behind, or, it will be how I travelled with one of them! It will be a picture of a pretty sunset. Or a yummy recipe I found. Since this page is just sitting here waiting for me, I think I'll do just that. Cause, if I can, you can...

Inspiration and creativity go hand in hand. Once you experience one, the other will follow. There's an exercise that one of my teachers in college did with each semester's class. She gave us a blank piece of paper and a crayon and said, "Draw a flower". So we did. Mostly, all the flowers were the same. A circle surrounded by five petals (daisy), or half of a broken egg (tulip), and we laughed when we saw the similarities of our drawings. But THEN, she turned the lights down and showed us wall-sized full-color images of poppy fields, and close-ups of elegant calla lilies, and tall sunflowers stretching toward the sky. You could almost feel the sunshine on your face and hear the birds singing from nearby trees and the coolness of springtime grass underneath your bare feet... Then, she turned the lights on, handed us another sheet of paper and said, "Draw a flower". Oh, and this time, completely immersed as we were, draw flowers we did! Each of us felt (and drew!) like our names were Rembrandt. Why? Because we were inspired. If I'm to write about creativity-and i am, I have to begin with inspiration-so I will. To me, inspiration is an unexpectedly warm day. Or the song of a cardinal. Or the playfulness of my pups. Or a visit with one of my sons. Or a favorite song. Or the dimples in the cheeks of my grandsons. Or one of a hundred of other happenings. I look for inspiration every day. I need it. I long for it. And I use it. And creativity follows...

Carpe Diem...

Last week Larry and I spent a few days in NYC, and yes, it's one of my favorite places...

From my very first visit, I was immediately smitten..the view of the skyline from the window of the plane sent me over the moon. The people have always been kind and accommodating, grateful to have us there and there's no limit of things to do. I like the food, the accents, the shopping, the weather, the sights. I like that New Yorkers create their own privacy, whether by their iPods or lack of eye contact. Once on a train, a woman across the aisle was dozing and snoring-something that I could NEVER allow myself to do in public-but I liked it, not the snoring but the sheer faux-seclusion of it. But what I look forward to most, is the pace, the energy of the people and the place... How quickly everyone walks. How everyone seems to know exactly where they're going and exactly how to get there. It usually takes me a couple of hours to get used to it...and those few hours are filled with me being in lots of someone's way or stepping out into traffic or any number of near-mishaps and stumbles.

But this last trip I realized its not just pace or energy. It's the INTENTIONALITY of it all. Its the fact that not one inch of space goes unused. That every second of every minute is maximized. That every waiter is an actor-in-training. That everything is the best-of-the-best because if not, someone or something better will replace it without missing a beat. Intentional. Maximized. Honed. Thought out. On purpose.

I think I like that because that's how we should be living...

Maximizing our time and our resources. Our talents. Living each moment to its fullest. Not "seizing the day" for our sakes, but for His sake. Doing and saying what we see and hear Him do and say.

When I've been restless and itching to go (which is quite often these days), I've felt the Lord letting me know that resting-which to me involves art projects and naps with pups and shopping and must see TV and hearing my GrandBoy call me "Munny" no less than a dozen times an hour-is the purpose of that particular time. And then, I enjoy it cause I know that won't always be the Plan for the day...

I'll be honest (what other choice is there?!), this isn't an easy time. I feel temporary. And uncomfortable. And out-of-place.

But those are feelings. And they'll change.

So today? I'm picking up the pace. I'm being deliberate. I'm maximizing. And you should too. Cause if I Can, So Can You...

13 years-old...

For some reason, my year as a thirteen year-old was both horrible and note-worthy. But not necessarily in that order. Stories from that year always work their way into my everyday conversation. And I never seem to run out of them. Especially the ones that I should be embarrassed about. And believe me, there are plenty of those.

My youngest son and I took a trip to NYC a few days before Christmas. He is getting married in April and this was a gift from my hubs. Memories and such... While we were traveling I brought up one of the "incidents" aka "real things that I tragically did/said as a pre-teen". He had never heard it and as I retold it we laughed so hard. I can't even remember what it was about... The time I (miserably) tried out for my middle school choir? My first facial blemish and the ensuing band-aid? How "Laura Stuart" is a oft-used verb for throwing someone under the bus, as I often was by her? My strict obedience to yearbook photographers who told me to say "cheese" like they did to everyone yet no one else did? My "best" friend Janice, who I believed was doing me a great favor by switching outfits with me so I could go to the skating rink without the shame of my new pants suit, which, of course, she wore and, oh, the outfit was a great hit? There are so many that I lose track. I just asked hubs to name a story and he said, "Which teacher said you were acting cutesy while you were giving a speech? And then you started crying? And then she said 'are you crying'?". Then I had to correct by reminding him, "No, that was my freshman year of college in a class full of seniors and an entire different horrible year"...but I digress.

I was painfully self-conscious for a great part of my life. I think that's why my thirteen year-old stories bring me so much joy. It's the fact that I can now laugh at events that so horribly rocked my world. My friend, Kate, even wants me to write a book of those stories. I think I just might...

Good Sounds and A Trick

The expression "you can't teach an old dog new tricks"? Well, I don't know about that, cause my dogs only know 2 tricks: they can sit on demand-if they feel like it, and, they take really good naps... But, what I do know is this: "You can teach a 51 year-old woman new tricks-if she's willing". Now that's a good one...

So today I'm liking some sounds. The sounds of Canada Geese flying overhead, just the occasional, distinctive honking heard above the loud whirring of their wings, that's a good sound. The sound of my 2 year-old GrandBoy saying "Hewwo, Bubby", that's a good sound. The fact that I can FINALLY say, "I got my household garbage out on the day before Thanksgiving this year", that's a good sound. That I'll tell Larry "I'm going to Fairhope today", where I'll pick up a ham for lunch tomorrow AND stop in to my favorite Fairhope shops, that's a good sound. That I'll say "my turkey is thawed and ready to roast" today as opposed to having to bathe and baby it on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, that's a good sound.

And I'm liking the sound of someone telling me "What you shared with me was so good. It's changing my life. Thank you. I know it was hard for you to tell me that, but you did anyway", maybe not in those exact words, but something like them.

That's my new trick. Listening and obeying. Even though it may be something I THOUGHT was against my very being. Even though I don't like to tell people what I really think. Even though I think they might not like me very much if I tell them that. Even though I've been chicken.

If you're "stuck", if you're in a rut or funk, perhaps it's because you're not DOING what you heard Him tell you to do. It's not an audible voice that you hear with your physical ears, but down on the inside of you, it's that thing that you know you were to do. Or something you knew you were to share with someone. It's not too late. Ask God to give you the opportunity again. And when that opportunity comes, don't miss it. It won't hurt as much as you thought it would. Because, the thing is, you'll be in that rut until you do what you know to do.

And then you'll say "that's a good sound". Cause, if I can, you can...

Oops...

So. We've been back almost 2 weeks now. I've done the laundry. I've napped with my pups. I've snuggled my GrandBoys and celebrated Ethan's 2nd birthday. I've shopped. I've been with my church family. I've watched Auburn football. I've driven my car. But I've also just gone through the motions...

Cause, I've missed our life in Argentina.

I've missed that great sense of purpose. I've missed that everyday feeling of being in the middle of something bigger than me. I've missed seeing fruit ripen seemingly immediately. I've been irritated that I came back "home" a different person while so many others seemed the same. I've been angry that people more experienced at going didn't tell me that coming back would be so hard. I've gritted my teeth and cried to see people I love making dumb or damaging decisions when the Answer is so simple. Sad. Irritated. Angry. Mopey.

To put it simply, I've been of no good.

Oh! But today I remembered! I'm not the servant of my emotions! My emotions work for me! A mopey me is a disobedient and defeated me. The joy of the Lord is my strength! Literally! His plan for me (and for you!) is so much bigger than what we can feel and see right now.

So, I'm making changes. Again. I'm changing the way I think. Again. I'm changing the way I talk. Again. And I'll continue to make adjustments.

I'm telling you this, you see, cause if I can, you can...

Home?

We're here.

The laundry is done. I've been to the grocery store. I've walked through Target with my mouth agape at the abundance of items to purchase. I played with my pups. I've held my GrandBoys. I've slept in my cozy bed.

But glad to be home? No. My home is Heaven.

We are sitting on "go". Ready to obey at a moment's notice. Content but not satisfied. The only thing that will satisfy is to do what God tells us to do, say what He tells us to say, go where He tells us to go. Nothing more, nothing less...

I refuse and actively resist being sleepy and complacent. I will not shy away from speaking the truth in love. I won't be afraid to do things I've never done before. I consider "comfortable" to be a dirty word. I won't be that.

We didn't return from our time in Argentina the same. We have been forever changed. And we plan to stay that way.

Right now, I'm enjoying my time here. I'm getting reacquainted with my favorite shops. I'm enjoying dog walks. And thinking of Christmas preparations. Maybe I'll clean my house. Maybe I'll watch a good movie.

But home? No, not just yet...