frazzled & frumpy

(morguefile.com) She sat on those New Year's days clueless. She celebrated with joy and abandon, looking forward to the year ahead. She thought this year, this one , will be better. This will be the year of happiness and carefree wonder, of success and new thrills. "This," she said to herself, "is my year." Oh, that I could go back and sit with her. I would hold her hand and try not to stifle her smile. Would I destroy the hope she held like a shiny bauble? Or would I let her go on,let her  believe, knowing as I do, that those years would be nothing like she dreamed? Would I tell her gently of the pain that awaited, of the tears she would shed and the ways her heart would never be the same? Would I, could I, prepare her for the unexpected doors she would be forced to open? Wouldn't it be better for her, to know about the trials, the pain, the sorrow? Couldn't she be stronger if she had the chance to be ready, to shore up her walls, fill up her pa...

I am a rock, sharp and uneven. I know my goal- smooth, polished, shiny- and I am so far from it.   But, the process to get there is not an easy one.  The past two weeks at church, I've heard and taught lessons on trials. We spoke of the early saints and the persecutions they endured. Specifically, Zion's Camp. They were a group of men (in Ohio) organized to help the saints in Missouri. After embarking on their thousand mile trek, they were tried by aching, bleeding feet, lack of food and water, oh, and cholera.  Weeks later, the discovered that their original goal would not be reached and they went back home. The journey, it turns out, was a test of their faith. I asked the kids in my Primary class (ten years old) why we have tests. I got several answers, but my favorite was, "To find out what we know and what we need to know." I believe we are given tests as a gift. Not one that we would put on a list at Christmas or our birthday, but a gift all the same...

June made me laugh the moment I met her. She is a strong woman with the survival instinct of a lion. Her blog- Simply June - is one part funny, one part inspirational. (Then there's the reviews of Downton Abby, which I don't watch...yet.) Big thanks to her for sharing some of her wisdom here.  Hi, my name is June. I am a Mother, Wife, Sister, Victim Advocate, Survivor, Friend and a daughter of God who thinks a sense of humor is mandatory when dealing with life. I  share all the things that inspire, inform, support of or simply bring a smile to my  face as well as others.  Sometimes all you can do is laugh through the hard times, so why not practice and be good at it?  Dark Blue fades to Clear The saying goes "God will never give us a trial we can’t handle" and I think that's true but, we don't have to get through our trials alone. Once, during a hot summer in Australia, I was driving to pick up Brian at work and while I waited for him in the ...

I've been sailing along for a while, enjoying the smooth, glassy surface of the water. I'd put my head back, feeling the sun on my face. So caught up, I was, in the tranquility, I failed to notice the warning, the gathering clouds, the distant rumble of thunder.  To me, the storm seemed to come from nowhere.   Suddenly, I found myself among choppy waves and rain stung my face.  The wind stole my breath and threatened to tip me over completely. Tossed to and fro, I was unable to see the shore, or anything, other than the clouds that surrounded me. All I could do was hold on and pray for calmer weather. When you're weary Feelin small When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all I love this song. Always have. I recently found a version of it on youtube and have listened to it everyday. It has brought me much peace. I'm on your side When times get rough And friends just can't be found Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay m...

(I wrote this the very late the other night after a particularly hard day. I've debated about whether or not to post it. I am- simply because it's honest and though it sounds like I'm depressed, I'm not. It's how I feel about a certain trial in my life that seems to go on and on and on. Read it, but please, don't worry about me.) Sometimes, life feels like I'm walking through a mud pit. It stretches out in front of me.  Not quite endless, but close.  The goal is there, I swear I can see it ahead. But, to get there-it's a long walk. Each step forward is a strain. The muck makes a slurping, sucking sound as I pull my foot out. Forward, slowly forward. My toes sink, I steady myself, then step again. Each time, the layer sticking to my feet grows, thicker and thicker,  until I'm wearing mud boots.  My feet are heavy, my legs ache.  The goal is still so far away. Then, for a brief moment, my feet break free and I am weightless. I stride forward, my he...