Gravel Road Musings

  Mother's Day.  Two simple words that I am sure invoke images of something for everyone of you. There are things that we expect on Mother's Day. We expect flowers or some form of gift. We expect all our chores to be done. We expect the Internet to explode with mother and children pictures, all dressed nicely and all smiling happily. That's the happy expectations of Mother's Day. But for others, Mother's Day is no different from any other day-nobody notices the sacrifices they make every day. Nobody acknowledges their sleepless night and long days. Nobody seemingly cares about them as a mom. And then there are still others for whom Mother's Day invokes sadness. On this day, they are once again reminded that their arms are empty or their children have walked away from their love or there is some other reminder of pain on that day. Mother's Day has meant numerous things to me through the years. Eight years ago, Mother's Day was more of a hidden grief known...

  istockphoto.com I walked into the kitchen this morning, feeling good about the fact that I had gotten up when my alarm rang the first time. I was going to have an extra amount of time to sit and enjoy the peace and quiet, which tells you I have been hitting the snooze button way too many times lately.  The first thing I noticed was this brown puddle on the floor. What in the world? Did Dave dump his coffee? But he wouldn't just walk away and leave the mess if he did. No, his coffee mug was still in the drainer. So what happened? Ahh, there I see it, the coffee pot is sitting there by itself away from the coffee maker. Hmm, it did a very bad job of catching the coffee this morning and our coffee maker is smart enough to tell me it won't run if I didn't empty the grounds out of the basket, but it's not smart enough to figure out the coffee pot isn't where it belongs? That's a problem and it created a very big problem this morning.  So instead of sitting in my ch...

 I don't know if you are as sick of seeing book reviews on my blog as I am of writing them. I enjoy reading new books, but I struggle to get the reviews done in a timely fashion and then I struggle to write anything of substance between reviews. But I am working hard to get caught up on my reading this winter, so lots of book reviews it is.  If you are expecting substance today, you will be sadly disappointed. It's not that kind of blog post. It's more of a blog post to say that I can write something other than blog reviews. I was going to write a couple blog posts last month or so I said in my monthly goals, but then I got sidetracked by attempting some writing for a new magazine that is coming out. My friend, Kerra Troyer, is putting together a mothering magazine that is different from a lot of other magazines out there. For one, there is no subscription, no confirmed time line for each new magazine. Kerra is a young mom with four little children and she recognizes that d...

  So let me start by saying that if you made it through the last round of review books and are still following, you deserve a prize. I am trying to catch up on review books, so that combined with the fact that I don't really enjoy writing the reviews that much and you have a procrastination problem that results in a stack of six books waiting to be written about. But now I am caught up and ready to write something else. Yesterday, I dug out my geraniums that I had stuck in a box in the basement. It's such a sad combination of dead leaves and albino looking shoots of new growth, but hidden away in that box was that bloom you see above. How does that happen? How in the darkness and cold of a cardboard box can beauty spring forth? It's amazing to me that shoots will start to grow, but a flower?  And what about  me? Do I bloom in the darkness or do I become like the dead leaves: brittle, easily unhinged, and ugly inside and out? This is a question I am not sure I want to eval...

  "For with God, nothing shall be impossible." Luke 1:37 The picture has nothing to do with anything, except I think it's a pretty blue sky in the picture. I've been thinking about this verse off and on over the last six weeks or so. We love this verse. Something comes up "Nothing is impossible with God" slides glibly off our tongue. I mean, really God has got this and I don't even need to show up, or do I? I think we miss a crucial part of the context here.  What does verse 38 say? "And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word...." Now, I'm no Bible scholar and I stand corrected here, but didn't Mary have a part to play in God's impossibilities?  Suppose the angel had said, "Mary, nothing is impossible with God." And Mary said, "Allrighty then, prove it, because I am going to stand here with arms crossed waiting to see." Or "I'll believe that when I see it." O...

  The day meanders along at a frighteningly slow pace. There are a multitude of fights to settle, disputes to solve, and squabbles to calm. My patience left at 8:00 and now at 10:00, my reserve is depleted, my attitude sour and my mind a whirl. Will lunch and naptime ever come? Why am I feeling like this? What is wrong with me that I cannot stay calm and happy for one morning?  The morning started out good, quiet time until 7, get ready in peace, and oh it was a glorious day. And then the children woke up and it all went downhill. An unexpected errand that needed to be run, pee that didn't land in the toilet, a car trunk that mysteriously wouldn't open, and cookies that weren't gonna bake themselves. I called my husband to tell him my tale of woe and he instantly caught on to the bad humor that was circulating through my brain and called me out on it. He was kind, but he was right. I was frazzled and frustrated. All my good intentions had washed down the drain with the last...

 As my foot steps on to the bottom step, my mind heaves a silent sigh of relief. Naptime!! What a precious commodity, rejuvenating sleep for the littles and rejuvenating quietness and rest for the mother, something to be treasured and preserved at all costs. As I set about heating up water for a cup of tea I mentally think through how best to use this time. There are books to be read, writing to be done, creative endeavors to work on, exercising that demands all my will power and on and on the mental list grows. The water starts to whistle (or it would if the tea pot still worked properly) and I pour it over a tea bag and a bit of sugar. And then I hear it, the tell tale pitter-pat on the stairs combined with the hollered out request. I inwardly groan and listened for the wispy voice of the three-year-old: "I have to go.....dear mama." I take care of his needs, tuck him back into bed with even stricter instructions to stay there and go to sleep. My sigh is quieter and more te...

Social media is full of them, those pictures of cute, little, missing teeth first graders all excited and eager gripping a lunch box or a sign board or something that indicates that they are off to the big world of school. Sometimes fear or anxiety shines through in their eyes or the way they grip their lunch box in a tight, white-knuckle grip, but mostly it's excitement that glitters off the page, causing even the casual social media scroller to smile and remember their own first days of school.  But what we don't see, what is kept hidden away in broken hearts are the mothers who hop onto Instagram to see what's happening with their friends and come across these cute little first graders and without warning their heart is ripped open again and the tears stream down their cheeks.  Because this was the year, this was the year their own little first grader was supposed to be going to school. This was the year they were going to have their own pictures to post on Instagram, th...

"Arrgghhaaaaahhhhahhhmmmahhhargh", the unintelligible moanings of a five-year-old fill my ears and my mouth instantly opens with one of two response, "Use words" or "Stop whining".  I mean really, how hard is it to just use words to say that your brother hit you? You don't need to sit on the couch whining or crying in that tone of voice that tells me you are not really hurt, but you are really offended and you really are hoping the offender will be duly punished for his offence. Whining grates on my nerves in a very big hurry. But you know what? Way too often I respond in a nasally, equally whiny tone of voice to say, "Stop whining". I catch myself sometimes and think, "Really, what am I becoming? How am I different? Responding to whining with whining is not the way to teach by example." So with toes feeling the effects of the smashing they received, we try again and again and again, both to teach that whining is not the recomme...

Note: this is for the sheer pleasure of writing, not so much about perfect production. Photo by  Aaron Burden  on  Unsplash Clean slate: pure, plain, and black. Though today, clean slates could also mean a white board, so then the description would be pure, plain, and white, which fits so much better into a Christian viewpoint.  We don't like to think of pure and clean as black, that is so evil instead.  This was the poem that came immediately to mind when I thought of clean slate: "He came to my desk with a quivering lip, the lesson was done. 'Have you a new sheet for me, dear teacher?  I've spoiled this one.' I took his sheet all soiled and blotted and gave him a new one all unspotted. And into his tired heart I cried,  'Do better now my child.' I went to the throne with a trembling heart; the day was done. 'Have you a new day for me, dear Master? I've spoiled this one.' He took my day all soiled and blotted ...

I feel like I should be posting something about Co-Vid 19, something profound, something noteworthy or at least something funny.  But I have nothing. Well, maybe that's not true. I did write something recently, something I call "The Blog Post that Will Never Be." It was raw and painful, but it was a way for me to process my thoughts. I realized something recently after reading "Thriving in Love and Money" by Jeff and Shaunti Feldhahn. (I highly recommend that book, by the way.)  As women, we tend to process externally and immediately, but men need space and time and can't think when we are going on and on about whatever issue is at hand. While I can process internally, I do tend to do best when I can talk about things. It helps me to verbalize it and that is what the blog post was, I think, the written processing of my internal thoughts.  So I want to do better at being patient and waiting without growing frustrated. I also realized recently that some pe...

It's post-Valentine's Day and everyone is basking in the afterglow of a holiday filled with hearts, chocolate, flowers, and fancy dinners. Right? Or not? Isn't this what the holiday is made for? Isn't this what every young girl dreams about when they think about the day they will get to share Valentine's with their special someone? Is it really love if you don't do all of these things and experience all of the feels? I remember our first Valentine's Day. It was two weeks before our wedding and we were filled with all the hope and excitement of our life together. Everything was roses, though I couldn't actually tell you if I got roses or not, though I'm guessing I did, because, of course, that was expected. (And that was an awkward sentence.) We went out for supper at one of our favorite restaurants in Wausau, waited for an unremembered length of time, had our meal and left. What did we eat? I don't remember, though I'm sure we had cheese cu...

So a few weeks ago, I reviewed a book called "My Unedited Writing Year". It is a book filled with writing prompts, I think 366 of them or so and I am going through the book and following the prompts and seeing what happens. I have no grand visions of writing a book or becoming a blogger with thousands of followers. I am simply wanting to expand a hobby of mine. And don't worry, I won't post all of them here. For instance, the finishing of the story of the poodle wearing a scroll? That is classified information there. But think about it, what would you do if a poodle showed up with a sticky note on its forehead that said, "Read me" and had a scroll attached to its collar? This could happen to you, or not. So today's project is not to post a gif on your blog, in case you're wondering. I don't really do gifs but I wanted some kind of picture to go along with this post so this is what I found. And let's face it, I liked it when I found it, bu...

Anybody who knows me really well probably knows that I like goals and lists and books and ideas. I love clean slates and open pages that are waiting for me to fill them up. And a New Year is no exception. I work on my goals during the month of December and come up with a rather long list of things I want to accomplish in the next year.  I generally don't actually get that many accomplished, but it never deters me from making another list the next year. This past Sunday in church we were challenged to only try to change 1%. Don't go for huge drastic changes in your life, you are setting yourself up for failure, but make small changes in several areas and see how successful you can be. And while my list may not look like small changes, I feel like, in some ways, that is what it is. I don't think I set resolutions, I set goals. And I try to make them measurable, but what tends to happen for me, is I set a whole year at a time, carefully write them out and then put them awa...

I was just looking back through my blog posts and realized that May was the last time I wrote a blog post that wasn't a book review. That makes me sad because I do like writing blog posts. I write book reviews because I get free books for doing it, but I write blog posts because I enjoy the writing process. I don't count myself a professional by any means, but good grief, I won't improve if I don't practice.  In fact, I just got a book off of NetGalley that I am super excited about. It's called "My Unedited Writing Life..." You can read more of my thoughts about it  here . The reason I'm excited about it is that I want to use it to generate more blog posts that aren't book reviews and aren't just stuffy me-trying-to-fill-space posts either. I don't know yet what it will look like, but I certainly want to write more than once every 6 months. A lot has happened since I last posted. Baking season has come and gone and it was a real...

 The day stretched out in front of me as I sat on the couch sipping another cup of coffee and contemplating my quiet time. Without warning, the tears started falling and my mind struggled to grasp what was going on? Why now? Why am I fighting against life now? It was going relatively smoothly and so why this uprising in my spirit? A scream punctuates the relative quiet of two children playing, "It's mine, he took my toy." I once again began my mantra, "What are you supposed to do when that happens?" "What is the right choice to make?" "You may not scream."  And the normal response came back to me, "But he started the fussing or the fight or whatever name the event was dubbed that time" And my mind wants to shut down and flee the scene. I feel ambivalent about it all. Can you guys just settle your own fights for once? Or better yet, how about you play nicely for once? There's a novel idea. An hour later, I am blissfully cl...

A Journey of Letting Go, Hanging on and Finding a Peace You Almost Forgot Was Possible The first thing I have to say about this book is just Go Read It!!  I really want to shout it at you in all caps, but I have the sense to realize that just because the book hit me between the eyes and I highlighted extensively on my Kindle version (I don't think I could highlight a paper copy), does not mean it will hit everyone the same way. I was reading this book at a time in my life when I really needed to surrender control, to be obedient to God's call, and to also be willing to accept help. These are all things that Jennifer talks about in this book. Jennifer was a news reporter and loved it until God kept pulling on her control strings and asking her to give up that job, then she taught news reporting until God asked for that job too. Now she writes about the greatest story of all: Jesus and following Him and does an amazing job of it as well. I think this is the first book I hav...

The ringing phone interrupted me as I stood by my car on a sunny Tuesday afternoon four years ago. Stopped in the middle of a conversation about my dad's looming heart surgery, I was jolted, stunned and changed by the news that a very good friend had died in childbirth. So out of our control. Nearly three years later, another ringing phone jolted us from our normal Monday evening activities. I was cleaning up the kitchen from supper when the call came telling us that D's mom and dad were in an accident and it didn't look good for Mom. Another phone call later and our worst fears were confirmed, Mom had passed away, killed instantly. Again, out of our control And now exactly four years later, on a Friday evening, we sat at the kitchen table eating a snack when the phone rang again. Again, it was a phone call we were not expecting, but a phone call that irrevocably changed our lives. No nobody had died, as D kept repeating throughout the weekend, but our lives will ...

Okay, it's official. I've never been a person to just gush over a season. I can't tell you that I just love Fall or Winter or Summer or Spring. I think I just like the changing seasons and have no real preference for anyone. However, I have concluded, I don't really like Spring. Yes, I just said that. Oh, I know, spring is a time of new growth, greening grass, and tender shoots of whatever bulbs were buried in the ground. But, let's face it, here in northern Wisconsin, spring is yucky. It's mud. This year it is lots of water as warm weather and rain combine to melt the snow faster than it can soak into a frozen earth. It is lots of lovely slippery ice on driveways making it treacherous walking. And it is dirty, oh so dirty. The snowbanks lose their whiteness and become grey and brown and rocky, depending on your winter snow plow.  But then again, I suppose it isn't technically spring yet, but let's face another fact about living in northern Wisco...

Someday I'm gonna be good at life. Someday I am going to update this blog with recent pictures which mean that... Someday I am going to upload my camera pics to my computer in a timely fashion. Someday I am going to catch up on all my reading and read a whole bunch of books for fun. Truthfully I'm trying that this year and I'm enjoying it, but I still have the pressure of needing to get books read to write a review about them. Someday I will laugh at myself and how easily disturbed I got over the smallest little details that didn't matter anyway. Someday I will enjoy having my children not take naps. Or will I? Someday I will be caught up on all my hobbies and I will be at a loss for what to do. Okay, I'm already laughing at that big fat lie. Someday I will love being disturbed in the middle of a project or a chapter or nothing and will gladly go run an errand for someone. Someday I will make supper without se...