Tag: Emily Freeman

She wanted to sleep in but sleeping in for me means 7, maybe 7:30, not 10.

I pulled out the art supplies, tried to entice her in learning to draw a butterfly with a few lines when she said, “Can I paint?” Yes! yes, you can paint.

This will be good. This is what I envisioned for the week she’d be with us during her spring break. We’d spend a couple of hours or three drawing, painting and making a mess. We’d have lunch at Chick-fil-A, evening walks to the lake…..but she’s 9. And had her own ideas.

Do you have those moments you look forward to but forget how draining good times can be?

Do you come through them filled with joy but needing to be refilled in other areas?

Maybe I don’t transition well. Okay. I’m positive I don’t transition well. Transitioning takes time and often includes slowing down which most of us aren’t good at. We can’t make these sharp turns going at the same speed. We can, but it often results in injury.

I took time away from some work responsibilities to focus on a relationship that’s being built moment by moment. There’s no time to ease back into the daily routines.

Work is the easier part. but the ideas for writing and photography and general creativity seem illusive. I need a refill.

So I start slow, scrolling through Instagram and letting creations of others provide beauty.

I’m rereading a few blogs I’d tagged. I’m slowly reading through Emily Freeman’s post called 8 Things Whole-Hearted Creative Women Do Differently.  (I’m hoping this will finally define me as a creative woman and then I quickly scold myself for the never ending self-doubts.)

I get to the part where Emily says “She no longer fears the silence”.

“She has made her peace with the silence she sometimes hears when she asks what is next. She trusts the inspiration will always circle back around again. She listens in the darkness and creates her way through it because sometimes that’s the only way out.”

It’s quieter with the granddaughter back in her house 5 hours away. There are no Disney movies playing at night or little girl squeals when her Papa plays with her.

I like the quiet. But yes, I think Emily has hit something here. This quiet can be mistaken for lack of inspiration, for purpose.

It’s just one small part of how this time in our life is holding a lot of transitions. And to make the turns I need to slow down. To listen in the darkness, trusting that inspiration will always circle back around again.

faith family hope

For years I was the night person. The one who got the kids bathed and in bed waiting for daddy to read their nighttime stories. I stayed up until the house quieted and found my quiet time after all were still.

Life changed and babies weren’t babies and their energy outlived mine and then I turned 40 and got this new burst that flipped our worlds upside down when the night person turned morning.

The kids turned the lights out at night while I woke up the sun and the life changed again.

It seems to keep changing, this life, and I can’t always keep up and, honestly, I don’t try as hard to keep up. I’m not sure who I’m keeping up with and I find myself sleepless at an hour I’ve not seen while healthy since rocking a grandbaby.

I leave the bedroom to read. I’ve been behind on certain reading, another keeping up that hasn’t been lately.

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I find Emily’s blog and am rewarded by her gentle words. There are some voices, that while I only hear them in print, their sounds are gentle like the lapping of the outgoing tide. Hers is like that for me. And her prayers are about the most beautiful I’ve read, simple and deep, felt all at once.

It was one short line that grabbed me this time:
“We are the megaphones of glory.”

Do you hear the beauty in that? Not the word megaphone because they are often louder than you want and have a harshness to them, but that word glory? That one word changes the whole thing. It changes an amplifier of sound into an instrument of glory and we are that instrument.

Me and you. We can be loud voices of glory.

I can be loud. There is no doubting that. I’ve told it before, we are the loud family. But most often I’m not shouting glory. Oh, God, forgive me of the megaphone of complaints and grumbling I use most often. Of venting when it’s an excuse for not getting my way. Forgive my selfish thundering and trumpeting my way over your way.

We are surrounded by glory but walk on by, failing to call it out in shouts of praise.

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He sat in the office today, a new young man. He said ‘the Major’ told him to talk to me, that he felt a stirring yesterday when others were sharing their words of glory. He wanted to share but he wanted to do so in song and he didn’t know if that was okay so he waited and he asked.

I told him to sing it for me and Michael was a megaphone of glory right there in that office with Eve on the other side of her computer and me listening to his glory sing right before us. He sang about praising in good times and bad because he’s meant to praise. Lord knows these can’t be the best times for a man who finds himself living at The Salvation Army. They are far from the worst but glory? Here? Yes, here, because You are here.

We are the megaphones of glory.
His glory.
Here.

faith Salvation Army

I’ve read Emily Freeman’s blog, Chatting at the sky, but recently discovered her monthly link-up that takes look at what we learned each month. Thought I’d join in this time around for a look back at April. To see more, go to the link-up on Emily’s blog, click here.

In no particular order, here are 5 things I’ve learned this month.

1. That my daughter artistic bent include photography, something new for her.

Since we weren’t together for Easter, she sent these photos she took of the granddaughter in her Easter best.

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kk Easter dress

2. Wildflowers showing off in an unlikely place

South Florida is basically season-less. We love to boast about that when the rest of the country is covered in snow and we’re posting photo’s of the beach. But we kind of miss those different bursts of colors. Palm trees don’t lose their fronds and the grass is always green so it was delightful surprise to see this field of wildflowers blooming just off the Turnpike.

Boca-Highland Beach

3. Easter services never go the way you envision.

It seems so simple. To combine our weekly congregation of men in substance abuse recovery with the more traditional congregation down the street from us.  I could elaborate, but some of these folks actually read this blog so let’s just say it was memorable. And funny  – now. (And one more reason why these men in recovery have our hearts.)

4. I can do hard things.

I signed up for the Allume Conference. Their website says this: The Allume conference exists to offer a gathering place for kindred spirits to connect, learn, grow, and be refreshed so they can persevere in being a people who bring hope to the world through the social media medium.

It will be full of bloggers and writers and tweeters and writers….and me. I signed up, not because I want to be a writer, but because I want to be a better writer. That’s a huge thing for me on many levels. Admitting out loud, or in print, that I’m a writer and then stepping far out of my comfort zone to attend a conference full of people I don’t know!

5. Watching people helping others is the best view EVER.

Our local beach hosts an annual Surfers for Autism event. This is our second year showing up on the right day to be inspired by these volunteers finding joy in helping others. Their expressions are priceless and I make no apologies for being the camera stalker.

surfers for autism day

surfers for autism day

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surfers for autism day

surfers for autism day

 

I’ve learned one more thing and that is looking at a month with the intention of considering what I’ve learned isn’t as easy as it soundsIt’s a reminder at how quickly time passes and how little attention I give to life. I think I’m going to like this link-up.

photography recovery