Do You Ever Feel Like You're Just Spinning Plates?

You know that time, just before the sunrise?

When there seems to be a hush. 

Time stands still before the day break. 

Yeah. 

I missed it. 

I slept until 6:41. 

I woke with a splitting headache. 

I wanted to burrow back under the covers. 

You see. 

I love to sleep. 

I LOVE to go to bed. 

I look forward all day to going to bed. 

I may have written about this once or twice. 

I love to climb in to bed. 

Book in hand. 

Words woven into story or thought before me. 

Quiet. 

A time when it's ok to rest. 

The feeling of needing to be productive;

ended for a few moments. 
But I love to rise early. 

This morning.

I recoiled at being awake. 

Already behind. 

No quiet time. 

I missed the beauty of the sunrise. 

Coffee a necessity rather than a luxury. 

Isn't that the way?

When it's a luxury it is still wonderful. 

A treasure. 

A gift. 

Coffee; because I want it. 

Quiet time because it's available. 

But when the day starts hard and you're behind;

Coffee is a necessity and you run the list fast through your mind. 

The tyranny of the urgent. 

I bark sharply. 

Breakfast, devotions, lunches, dishwasher, laundry. 

Remembering that when you make yogurt,
 you need to make sure you have a starter before you begin the process. 

Happy Chickens. 

Spin those plates. 

Keep it all going. 

Don't let it fall. 

I breathe. 

This is not how I want life to be. 

Even when I wake late. 

Even when the coffee is the necessity. 

I want my life seasoned with grace. 

Even when there's deadlines. 

I breathe. 

These are the moments that can be the holiest all day. 

The most chaotic moments of the day might also be the holiest. 

When your heart races and things are chaotic.

When you're behind and feel out of control. 

That's when He can do His work. 

It comes in the surrender. 

Knowing that even though all is spinning wildly;

He is not. 

He, is still in control.

This is digging deep. 

So I sip the coffee. 

I breathe deeply. 

I speak gratitude. 

The pace slows. 

Order (what little I have) returns.

I am choosing the way that is filled with the Holy Spirit. 

The way that keeps my feet light. 

That allows me to be used by God at any moment. 

I am holding loosely to the things of this world. 

I am ready. 
With open hands. 

Just Breathe
Jonny Diaz

Saying Good Bye is Never Easy

The call came early Monday morning. 
A week ago.

Memorial Day. 

The catch in his voice. 

I knew. 

I hoped it was something else. 

Some other reason. 

My brother had called to share that our 
beloved Dad had journeyed to be with the Lord. 

Gone; from this earth. 

That deep ache; the constant pain rubbed raw. 

Another loss. 

The walk of grief well worn. 
The path of gratitude in need of work. 

I begin the journey to my dad. 
This time to say good bye. 

Making arrangements all so familiar. 
My brothers and I worked together to honor our dad. 
We laughed at memories. 
We rejoiced over sweet reunions in heaven. 

The time together is good. 
My farmer and the rest of the kids join us. 
These moments; are defining. 
Setting the stage for the journey ahead. 
Our parents are gone. 

We now, the Senior members.

With Military Honors we lay dad to rest. 

We turn from that Cemetery for the 2nd time. 
We leave behind our parents. 
The ones who gave us life. 
Who poured into our beings to make us who we are. 
69 and 73. 
Both seem too young. 
Yet both in God's timing. 
Both rejoicing with Elijah. 
We begin our journey back to my brother's house. 
Time; ever moving forward. 
The march. 
The necessity. 
There is still much to do. 
A home full of memories; 
needing to be sorted and dispersed. 

A strange process.

We part ways again. 
My brothers and I. 
Me back to my family. 
They to theirs.
All of us changed. 

These losses continually remind me;
 we were not meant for death. 
Our journey; Life. 
Life everlasting. 
All that is within us recoils at death. 
The pain. 
The ache. 
Our purpose is life.
 My heart is heavy and I am sad. 
There has not been much time to grieve. 
A friend sent a note. 
Dad's death a double sorrow. 

She's so right. 
The memory thief steals the mind. 
Death steals the body. 
But God holds them both. 

We now, are the memory keepers. 
And those memories were beautiful. 
A legacy of life and fun. 
Service and faith. 

Thank you Dad for your service to this country. 

Thank you for instilling that love is us. 
We are grateful for the love of the ocean and family. 
No matter how hard things get; we stick together. 

 I feel weary. 
Weary from the weight. 
From the week. 
Grief heavy. 
Grief is work. 
Taking those wise words from my dad,
Chin up, shoulders straight, fly right. 

Thanks dad. 

Psalm 136:1
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. 
His love endures forever.