Reentry

I am late on my blog, but I am having transition problems.  Yep, leaving the three-month beach life and coming back to reality is tough.  I’m not seeking compassion because all you who endured this winter are saying, “ Yea, you don’t know tough until you have endured the winter of 2014.”  I understand.  I understand. 

Instead I am trying to read my life.  I read an article on looking at the things you choose to do and the price you pay for those choices.  I read my life as beautiful.  I am so grateful God has given Denny and I so many opportunities.  Sometimes it was making our dollars stretch to the end of the month, others led my agnostic husband into a deep belief in Jesus, other times we joined our faith for a miraculous physical healing for John and an emotional healing for Adam.  Those were hard times but because we had become equally yoked, we stood together resurrecting that same spirit within us that raised Christ from the dead.  We didn’t choose for these hardships, but we chose how we reacted.  We chose faith in Jesus.  He paid the price so we could make this choice.

I know in my life I need time for prayer, solitude, and peace. These are the things that renew my soul and spirit.  I know I need this fix me time, so I don’t neglect these things.  When life gets too busy to be peaceful, I know I am paying the price for a choice of over commitment.

I read in my life a need to create and teach.  My little granddaughters are taught moral lessons each piece of art we make.  This week we had kindness competition.  We made a sign for their rooms.  I asked each sister to explain what she liked best about her sibling.  I wrote Ellis’s on her poster.  Ava wrote her own as Ellis and I told her what we liked about her.  Ellis said we forgot one thing.  She was happy, so she added her happy face on her poster.  I loved that she chose to see herself as happy and her sister gave warm cuddles to her at night when it was difficult to fall asleep.  Ahhh, we all need a good cuddles and hugs in our lives.

I am going to continue to read my choices.  Being mindful that my wise choices brings new truths, and my poor choices bring errors and failure lessons that create in me better discernment.  Be ready for my choice making blogs.

Losing my focus

Losing my focus

My mind is constantly tricked by the sun into thinking I am on vacation.  Since we live in Florida for three months, this is not true.  We live here , and I need to be productive I tell  myself.
    I pretend I will go to the beach and plot my novel , check the pace, or rework a character .  I dig my toes into the warm sand trying to create brainpower.  Strange, the opposite happens.  The grains of sand between my toes bring back memories of the past.  I remember when my parents ,sister, and I went to Daytona Beach every Sunday after church.  I remember the first time Den and I walked hand in hand on the wet sand and looked into each other’s eyes with love and adoration.  I think on the first time that we brought our sons to the sea.  I loved their squeals of glee and fascination with the shells and waves.  How many sandcastles have I built through the years?

I marvel as the waves wash beautiful shell treasures to shore.  I have carried shells home for over sixty-five years.  As a child, I would beg to take just one more home.  As a teen, I stuffed as many as possible in my suitcase on spring break visits.  Being a young mom encouraged my collection, because the boys brought to me their found jewels of the sea. We carried each one home to display and keep forever.  Now, as a grandmother, I find shells that I am sure our granddaughters will need for their collections I have begun for them.  I consider  and plan how many more shells I can display in my small home.  Shells are like ice cream; there is always room for more.

Once again the beautiful teal waters glittering like diamonds have stolen my focus from writing.  I am daily deceived in my three months in Florida that the sea will nurture my creativity.  Instead, it relaxes me. It resurrects precious memories.  It restores my soul and awe of God’s majesty.  How does anyone ever become immune to the lulling sounds of the sea?  If I lived here year round, could I learn to focus?  Excuse me; I only have a few days  left to meditate on the wonders of the sea.  I must go now.