Dog-Tired

I know I said I wasn't going to blog anymore but I couldn't resist putting up this photo of our puppy, Zeke. I have been training him not to sleep on the sofa unless he lays on his blanket, so that all I have to do is wash the blanket from time to time rather than have a dirty sofa.

Last night the blanket was in the wash and he was tired. So the closest he could get to it was my statistics books piled at one end.

It looks as if he's either had a long night of studying, or is hoping to absorb the material by sleeping on it!

Don't Watch This Space

In the interest of better managing my time and doing more actual writing, I am going to shut down the blog for a while. I truly appreciate everyone who has been reading and/or commenting here. Your friendship and encouragement have been invaluable.

I'm sure I'll be back up again, but for now... don't watch this space. And have a great summer!

Meet the Hanorja

My, I'm just a blogging fool this morning! What is it about Saturdays? I did do some writing, and was pleased with the result, although it took me half an hour to get started.

One thing I accomplished was to finally come up with a succinct description of my imaginary people. I also have decided to change the tone of the book a little. This work is just too darn serious! It needs a little subtle humor to lighten the mood. (My all-time favorite opening of a book is, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.")

So, here's my paragraph:

The captain, the lieutenant, and their people were of a race called the Hanorja, who dwelled in the land between the Dagger Mountains and the Cobalt Sea. A male hanor was called a haman, and a female, a hawin. They were shorter and slighter than humans, less magical than elves, and not in the least like dwarves. For one thing, the hamen had no beards, and for another, they loathed being underground. Although fond of speculation as to their kinship with other races, all they knew for sure was that they were Hanorja, and that their ancestors had come over the mountains in ages past.

A Note to My Readers

I am aware that my blog is being read by a wide variety of people. A much wider variety than I ever imagined when I first started keeping an on-line journal. To my surprise - and slight dismay - I find that links to these pages exist on several other blogs. As my circle of online friends increases, I expect the number of links to grow, along with my readership. I am aware that despite the fact that I am not publicly searchable on Google and have not added labels to most of my posts, I still have hits from all over the world.

Social networking is truly an amazing thing.

I used to post content freely, and now find myself second-guessing quite a lot of things. Especially anything to do with Christianity or scripture references. I don't want to turn off people who might be otherwise enjoying the blog, or who might have helpful comments to post. On the other hand, my faith is such an intrinsic part of who I am and why I write that I feel it would be disingenuous not to post my thoughts here. My real reason for starting the blog was to have a place to write, and possibly share, these very insights.

You see, I can't journal in a notebook. I've tried, over and over. I repeatedly hear "Authors must journal!" But I can't write without an audience. I already know what I want to say, so why record it for myself? Especially since most of the things I journal about tend to be tedious and often depressing.

But when I have an audience, I become sharper. More interesting. If you think this blog is boring, you should see some of my diaries! I'm not saying I would show them to you (I've destroyed most of them anyway) but you should see them. Pretty dull stuff, let me tell you.

I hope that by posting my personal insights here, I may not only unburden my heart, but inspire a few people with the same struggles. I also hope that perhaps these thoughts will help someone who doesn't like or understand Christianity, to see it in a slightly different light.

In short, I have found that there is no substitute for the deep, abiding faith that gives purpose and hope to all that I do and all that I am. I hope you don't mind my sharing it.

Why are you not a writer?

I just discovered an awesome blog called The Write Power. The most recent post is about Embracing the Call to Write. In it, author Maryann Diorio asks,

"Why are you not a writer? It is either that you do not want to be a writer, or that you do not believe that God can make you one.

Either response reveals a lack of faith in Almighty God to complete the good work He has begun in you (Philippians 1:6)."

The main reason I am not, is lack of self-discipline. I can complain and squirm all I want to, but the simple fact is: I am terrible at managing my time. It is a problem that I can freely admit to the world - and everyone in my corner of the world knows it anyway - but am at a loss to solve. So that is something I desperately need to seek God's help on.

Okay, I'm going to take the next 30 minutes and write instead of blogging. Here I go...

Stretching the string

I am unaccustomed to not being able to make ends meet. I think in July I can make them meet if I stretch that string v-e-r-y tightly.

I'm admit that I'm spoiled. I used to have a really good job, and my husband used to have a really good job. We got in the habit of eating out, going places, taking vacations. We charged things often, but he would always get an overtime job and then we'd pay the balances off. Even after I quit to be a mom, money was tight, but we always pulled through despite a tendency to spend more than we should.

Now, though, I'm crying over spilled milk. A lot of it. We have, like, a whole milk factory that has to be cleaned up here. And I know it's largely my fault. Not all my fault, but I'm willing to shoulder my share of it.

The windows. We should never have gotten those new windows for the house, among other things. The final decision was up to me, although hubby was the one who wanted me to call the salesman. We had our Bush tax rebate in our hands, and we are both suckers for a good sales pitch. That guy was so pleasant, and good-looking, and convincing. And we really did need the windows. And the energy savings will offset the loan payment! Right.

I'm a mathematician, for crying out loud! I should have known better. I just thought that this recession wouldn't affect us. Mark had been working steadily for a long time, and I had just gotten the job at the college.

I have been agonizing about what to do. "Lord, tell me!" So He told me, but I'm still questioning Him.

What the Holy Spirit has been reminding me is that this is not about me, no matter how much I think it is.

"Trust Me," the Lord says. "Don't look at the problem, look at Me. This is an exercise in faith. Do you depend on Me, or on yourself?"

"But Lord, you gave me all these gifts, talents, and an education. Aren't I responsible for how I use them? Isn't it about me doing the right thing? Making the right decisions?"

"Trust Me. Look at Me."

"I'm trying Lord. I believe. Help me in my unbelief!"

This morning I read the following passage and was deeply moved by it:

Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him; for God's temple is sacred, and you are that temple.

Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a "fool" so that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight. As it is written: "He catches the wise in their craftiness"... All things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God."-- I Cor. 3:16-23

I am God's temple and his Spirit lives in me. All things are mine through Christ Jesus. He won't let me - let us - fail.

Rain, rain, go away

Normally, I like rain. I really do! I love the soft sound of it, the smell of the air, the excitement of a thunderstorm.

But enough already!!! I think the trees are literally rotting in the ground behind our house; they are turning black and the trunks are splitting. Most of the mulch has washed out of the schoolyard. I hesitate to buy any local strawberries for fear they'll have no flavor at all.

So I'm ready for some sunshine, please!