Say a little prayer

Yesterday I discovered evidence of termites on my new bedroom floor behind the door. I got so pissed. I became all negative and discouraged and said some stupid things when Chris asked why I was so upset. Granted, I am a bit overtaxed from bad sleep habits of late, and non-stop moving-in-stuff, but still. It was silly. I said things like, "Why can't we just live in a place that doesn't have something gross wrong with it?!" and when my husband pointed out that we get to choose how we look at something that seems bad as just that, or as a means to rise above and still be thankful, I responded with a less than gracious answer. But. Such is life. My imperfection remains an obvious character flaw. I'm trying here, alright? 
I went into my daughter's room, which is perfectly put in place and clean at almost all times of every day. (Wonder where she gets that from, hmm?) She has a thankful bucket. Not a thankful jar. It's a big tin bucket where when you walk in her room, the rule is, you have to jot down one thing each time that you are thankful for on these little slips of paper she has then drop it into the thing. I stood there, alone in her room, with the pen hovering over the tiny piece of paper, drawing a blank. A blank, after God has obviously set us up in our own brand new cool barn house, in the country, with my healthy family, my doting and lovely husband, etc. But after a moment of self-abasement over that fact I realized that I wasn't not thankful, I had too many things I could list that I could be thankful for, but were not readily available in my mind because of my perspective.
I dumped out all of the little folded up pieces of thankfulness from her bucket and read every single one of them. I was teary as I read the last one: I am thankful for mama. My child is thankful for me. Messy, temperamental, easily-irritated at times, ME. 
I wrote my little message on my blank slip, folded it and placed them all back into the bucket.
I went out onto our deck and sat in a chair with my bible and my journal, and not feeling at all like praying, I said a prayer that aligned with what I had written down: I am thankful for miracles. With a little quote I adore: Impossibility is the atmosphere surrounding a miracle.I kind of desperately cried out to God to see evidence of His miracles today.
Impossibility is the atmosphere surrounding a miracle? Which means my whole life is a miracle. My husband's life is a miracle. Each one of my kids' lives are miracles. The fact that we have a roof over our heads and exist, and dwell on the Central Coast in one of the most expensive places in America is indeed a miracle. I felt hope trickle into my cold heart. Thankfulness at all of this crazy goodness melted my icy thoughts and poured life-giving truth back in where I had allowed doubt and going through the motions to be my guide. It was so nice to know how quickly we can be refreshed if we just simply take even a few moments to sit still and fix our thoughts on a positive, prayerful place. 

Suddenly, everything became more colorful for me once again. The birds seemed to sing a little clearer and sweeter. The breeze felt like it was blowing new fragrance into me, and my heart lifted a little. Hope is an interesting thing. The Bible says: A hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12. I have had so many longings fulfilled. I have also had many longings not yet fulfilled. But I also believe not everything is answered right away in the timing we expect. God works in a different time zone or higher manner that is hard to comprehend at times. 

It was definitely not my choice to be without a home, floating around to different houses all summer long, but the end result was that the house we have ended up with is first of all, multiple times better than any place we were placing our applications in for, and that it just wasn't completed until almost the end of summer. Our finite minds couldn't have anticipated that outcome at the time, but I really feel strongly that God knew. Everything falls into place the way it is supposed to, in the best possible way, usually, if we can trust that. Trust in a Higher purpose than we can conceive of. Trusting the ultimate faithfulness of a God who promises good things to His kids.

I left the solace of the deck to go and pick up a free couch that a good friend of mine had hooked us up with. Her dad was giving it away and she thought it would look good in our house. I showed up with my friend Melissa in her little truck, and the couch was in perfect condition, and Pottery Barn, so very nice. We got back on the road to unload it into the house, and there was this older couple standing by the side of the golf course with their hazards on. Melissa stopped and asked if they were okay, as the man leaned against his cane. The woman approached the truck and told us she was taking pictures of the Jeep to sell on craigslist. I looked back at the car and kind of freaked out, because my car has been threatening to die and not making it up hills, in need of a head gasket and new transmission, which would cost more than the car itself is worth. I had been specifically searching for a Jeep, because our new property is bumpy and dusty, but it had to be in the three thousand range, which I came to believe was impossible for a Jeep in good condition. I had recently prayed, "Lord, You're just going to have to put one (a car) right into my direct path because I honestly have no idea how to do this."

I jumped out of the truck, and jogged to the couple displaying their Jeep for pictures. It was beautiful. The engine, perfectly detailed and spotless as though no one has driven the thing. I asked how much they were asking, to which she replied, "$2,700." WHAT. I told them I was going to be the one who buys their car. She laughed and he looked at me and said, "I never say no to a pretty girl." There are more details, which were uncanny, and I am taking it for a test drive and giving a deposit today. I am so excited! It was crazy! I had to share...just what a tiny, little prayer can do to change things in one day. I am a firm believer in this season as one of New Beginnings, cliche' or not, I have been finding it to be true, and I hope that you will too.

Birds

The sky is flawless - not a fluffy cloud in sight. The birds sing, chatter, rustle, feast on bugs in the trees, and make their enchanting chorus in undulating waves of sound. Then, all of the birds quiet down as one solitary bird calls out in pulsing rhythm - (Maybe he's the preacher bird) - but it's short and seemingly to the point, the way a good word should be, and afterward all the other birds once more join in, singing and whistling and sweetly humming their birdsong worship.
Nature is a sanctuary to my soul. It unravels all of the confusion and anxiety, setting it all free to the breeze, carrying all of the pettiness, the mind-war and negative thoughts, away from me, so far away.
The trees are filled with all of the life-breathing joys and beauties, the plants, the grass, wildflowers, weeds, vines, moss, all gently co-existing in peaceful harmony.
The beasts of the field and birds of the air, the creatures in the sea and rivers, all caught up in a euphony that resembles a dance celebrating the uniqueness and unity that are so exquisitely woven together making a life-force, which, if studied, examined, meditated upon, sung and written about, form such a perfect example of how we inhabitants of earth should conduct ourselves and exist.
Then my mind goes to how wonderful it is that each hair on our heads is numbered, each grain of sand accounted for. How loved, how precious we each are to the Creator. Each one of us contain gifts only we can share. I find peace in knowing that I was made in a particular, well-thought-out pattern.
I am not a bird, though I admit I have envied them at times; I am not a turtle or a cow. I happen to be a human, an American female, born light-eyed and pale-skinned, in these times, no mistake, no choice in the matter. There is no use pining to be someone or something different than who I am, (though I do admit to wasting my energy on this at times) unless it's in my conduct, attitude, or beliefs and the way I carry out those creeds in my life with more boldness, acceptance, gentleness, love, kindness. Our greatest good is done when we embrace our true selves, and let that inner-embrace spill over into the way we treat others, especially they who are different than us. That is the beauty of this life - the contrasts, that we are NOT exactly alike, thankfully! How dull would be our days if we all looked alike and believed the same.

a poem:
We are drenched
in our own desires
intertwined in our tendencies
driven mad by our expectations
closed-in by the American dream
our houses are our coffins
we're buried deep in debt
the cars that we drive
end up in rusted heaps
Our educations un-school us
from simply being free
unrestrained by derision, division
to believe is to see?
Cast off imaginations
like cattle wandering off cliffs
we walked blinded to our deaths
creativity halted

embers:
the furnace within my chest
is full with ash and embers
the reason why it burns
i can't hardly remember
I shovel coal atop it
and stir the fire so soft
not one flicker escapes the bricks
to cause my friends to cough
but this burning inside my heart
is flowering out of bounds
don't know how to contain it
before it gathers into mounds.

read at your own risk ;)

Words. I have not written words for a very long time. I ignored this blog. I felt it was silly of me to keep broadcasting feelings that no one seemed to care about. How ridiculous! I don't write for people but because I have to write to BE me.

I keep a journal, but even that plateaued into a desert of dry tab-keeping and list-making. I said to myself, 'I can't write. It takes work to be good and I don't have that in me.' What a lazy human I can be about the things that truly matter and define me. I have written constantly ever since my mother placed a pencil in my tiny hand and put the blank lined page in front of me. I loved to watch that paper fill up with my own stories and sketches of people, houses, trees, clouds.

It's the one place I've always felt I could excel in if I put the work and practice into. Yet here I am at 38 and still hovering around the insecure notion that I would never amount to anything. What a waste. I am determined to give more effort into the things I love. This is a morbid thought, but what would I want my obituary to say? I know that I am a good mother and I try to be a decent wife. I keep my home relatively tidy and I don't fail to water my garden and pluck out its weeds. I love my friends deeply and desperately yet I am very lacking in pursuing friendships and calling or writing. I want to be better at this too... but I've honestly just been so gosh darned exhausted lately. 

I'm not one to embrace complaining because I don't think anything good ever comes from it, including the pity people might give you which some feel supported by, but perhaps that is just another form of pride that I have in my heart. I want to be transparent, but I'm torn between transparency and the feeling that I might overshare in order to be pitied so I avoid sharing at all. This seems like a safe place to share some things, because people get to choose whether or not they want to take the time to click into my blog and read my thoughts. Truth is lately I've been having some major issues. I have not been able to fall asleep naturally without sleep aids since June. This is due in part to sciatic pain which affects me every day in varying degrees. It is in my hips, and the tingling, burning, constant tightness and discomfort runs down my legs and gives me restless leg syndrome at night, like little electric shocks throughout me. I feel like my whole body is pulsating when I try to sleep, so I cannot. So I pop a pill (well, a half usually) to synthetically fall into rest. I've been dealing with fatigue, and this shuts me down and makes me not want to hang out with anybody for some reason. It's very frustrating. 

I see myself as a healthy person: mostly vegetarian and good at taking my supplements and doing some form of light exercise or yoga most days. So this is incredibly irritating to have chronic pain and issues. Nighttime has always been my time to listen. To reflect and meditate and hear what God is saying, what my mind is saying, to assess my state of heart and to adjust accordingly. I haven't been as free to do this lately because of the pain. But I am certainly pressing in consistently, I am not succumbing to discontentment or stagnancy. I have hope and know that things will not always be this way. I will sleep again, I will feel pain-free again, I will be energized once more.

I have to believe that.

I think of all the people over time who have endured any sort of prolonged suffering or pain, and shone brightly in the midst of it, and I am inspired to dig deeper into that. I know I have renewed compassion for people with disorders and disabilities and diseases that aren't visually noticeable now, where before I may have been annoyed with people's complaints of pain or treatments or constant asking for prayer. I wish I could reach out a little more for that but I find it pandering in myself. I'd rather just keep to myself and hope that eventually I'll find the solution through alternative routes like massage, or acupressure or acupuncture, SOMEthing.

This is very hard for me to write, honestly. Not so hard to write, but to actually go through with sharing it and having people know my vulnerability and issues currently. So scary. But scary can be good. I don't think everyone will understand, especially if they've never had chronic pain. It's so weird! Anyone who has had it or is having these types of issues right now, they know it can be a lonely road. Finding the right doctors to help, the right treatment, if any, the ability to communicate what you're feeling and get over the irritating thought of, "But I just want to be BETTER, so maybe if I don't talk about it it doesn't exist." People, I get it. Basically I have neck pain, headaches, fatigue, joint and sciatic pain every day lately. It's crazy. It wasn't there, and then it was suddenly there. Taking over my body, and not going away. 

But it will. I am hopeful.

This post looks so pathetic to me. I want to delete it. I want to hide this and pretend like everything is peachy with me, because the optimistic, sunshiny words look so much better on a page than these kinds. But I'm going to just put this out there into the cyber world. Maybe it will help someone to know they're not alone. Maybe it'll bring light to why I may have been keeping to myself lately. Who knows. 

I guess I'll leave it right there. I'm sorry if anyone clicked on this post hoping for my usual uplifting words of encouragement and had to read this sad junk, haha. 

I love you people. I'm thankful for you. If you need prayers or a friend, I'll try to be there for you.

procrastinate (the american dream)

the conversion
from worm to winged
comes at a price
dark corridors of soul
scaling rock walls
to higher heights
ascension
perched on aeries
peering below
at the multitude
seemingly contented
appearances deceive
vernacular
humanity as fireflies
flickering lights
mesmerizing few
the dream remains
money, success
queries swarm in minds
like hornets nest
meaning of life
vanishing like smoke rings
against a peach bellini sky
house, car, picket fence
pipedreams
galaxies awaiting discovery
yet cushioned seats
draw me in
lulling into a stupor
of meaninglessness.

Harmony and her daddy laying down some tracks in the Live Barn recordings

The making of an album and the humbling need of one another.

Ever since I met my husband Chris, the most defining character aspect he embodies is his absolute passion for music, songwriting, speaking into peoples' lives with empathy and discernment in his lyrics, and just a general love for the art of song. It is always on the forefront of his mind. It plays out in his life in so many ways: when he sees someone suffering from loss of a loved one or from their own personal sorrows, a song often comes. When he sees the joys of children or people in simple things of life, songs are birthed. When he feels love. When he feels the sting of disappointment or betrayal. Songs are sure to follow as the outpouring of his emotions in song form. It's his therapy, and his gift.
So it's only natural that he would have a strong desire to get this art out to the masses by recording, putting the songs into albums, and getting them out to people. This is where our basic need of humanity steps in. We have such a supportive and wonderful circle of friends and family that speaks into his life to encourage him to keep on, and that the world most definitely needs to hear the encouragement and beauty of the music he imparts.
His newest project which he has been working on consistently for the past year and some change is a collection of raw, honest and compelling songs from the heart on the subjects of love, God, and the journey which are powerfully spiritual yet relate-able on many levels. I feel strongly that this is the album which will best display Chris' true self and soul. Most were written directly after donating a kidney to a woman who has come to be our close friend, Kathy, in the aftermath of surgery in Portland, Oregon. The whole thing left Chris vulnerable and reflective, which is the perfect fodder for good songs.
He has launched a kickstarter campaign, which can be controversial but which we are hopeful will include our friends and many different people in order for the album (which is actually a two-part cd-set when completed) to come to fruition. We are excited for the outcome, and are asking, once again, for you, our friends and loved ones, to come onboard to support his dream of making this a reality.

Here's the link if there is interest in coming alongside us to make this album take off:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/chrisbeland/gospel-and-kidney-album?ref=home_social

We are so completely grateful for all of you wonderful people placed in our path to love us, and us to be able to love and share in your joys, trials and lives as well. It's so very true that we humans need each other in this life. So thank you in advance for your friendships, and for any way you feel in your hearts to help and support us in this amazing endeavor to make this double album come to pass!!

Cheers and much love.

Neverland - Ode to Elijah

Sometimes time goes very slow and other times it seems to have gone by much too fast, like when I look at how quickly my son Eli has gone from colicky babe to almost 18 years old and moving out into the big beyond.
I know I'm supposed to embrace the progression of time and I am thankful that he is so amazing and that I can be confident that he will make the best of decisions as he embarks on his new adventures in the world, BUT, in all honesty, I'm going to miss him SO freaking much! He is a solid guy. He makes me laugh really hard. He gets me. He is smart as a whip and witty as heck. He is stylish and helps me decide which outfit is best on me. He's tender and intuitive, he is a willing shoulder to cry on. I enjoy being with him tremendously, and it's going to be super weird not having him around.

I guess I just didn't see the day approaching so quickly- one rarely does, unless perhaps they have a difficult kid that puts them through the ringer, then you maybe wish that kid WOULD leave. Some kids never want to flee the nest, and that can get interesting. But Elijah has always been pretty independent. I remember leaving him in pre-school a couple days a week for awhile, and he'd run off as soon as we got there, "Bye momma!" as I stood there watching him approach the other kids unreservedly. When it was time to pick him up, of course, he'd see me and say,"You're back already?" haha. He's always been very secure in who he was and in my love.
We went on many adventures together and still do. He's the best co-pilot a mom can have. For five years, it was just him and me. I was a single ma, and he was my world. I was young and he was my learning ground, but somehow it all turned out more than okay. I'm so proud of him, the man he's become and becoming.

There are days I guess I just wish everything could stay the same, and all my chickens could remain in MY coop with me. But that's just not how things go. In fact, it would be highly abnormal to have him reject the idea of leaving to begin his own singular life apart from me. I am grateful for his eagerness, but the sadness remains. My buddy is moving on. I just pray he will still include me and his dad in his life, if not daily, then at least occasionally. Because I know a day won't go by (or night!) that I won't be thinking about him and what he's up to, and if he's safe, and......:)