lack of motivation


Every so often my mind gets stuck in a caveman mentality, where I look around the house and the sights do not separate and compute into individual tasks.  It all blurs together as I get out of bed, go to the bathroom, walk down the hall, and all I can see is,

“Ugh. Mess.”

It’s like in the movie Dr. Strange when Dr. Strange uses the time stone to create a time loop where over and over he is destined to die at the hand of Dormammu. Over and over he shows up and says, “Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain” (or something like that).  Over and over Dormammu just kills him but Dr. Strange just keeps coming back saying, “Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain”, until the villain is finally tired of killing.

There are people who can see the world, and others who can act upon it. My gift in life does not seem to be one of the acting sort.  I act because I have to, because people need me to, but not because I cannot help but act.  It seems though I cannot help but see.

I remember reading one time that the meaning of the word courage was “the will to act”.  I always thought of courage as having to do with bravery, fear, and doing something great in the face of overwhelming odds, that are, most likely, completely against you.  But when I think of courage as “the will to act” it makes me think of the word “discouraged”.


So is discouragement then when you are missing “the will to act”, missing bravery, missing greatness, and missing courage?  And does en-couraged mean when you have gone from the state of missing the will to act to being the great possessor of courage?

As Christians we are told to encourage one another.  I’ve always thought it was kind of silly to read a mom blog that says something like “Mama, you are brave.” I appreciate encouragement, but flattery? Seriously.  What is brave about making people breakfast?

But it IS brave! And I can hardly believe this.

I’m shouting this to you across the internet, friends.

“In Christ we are the great possessors of courage!”

just stopping by

There hasn’t been a lot of time to write this week. In the past several days I’ve accumulated nearly 30 hours of paid work in the camp kitchen. I’m not gonna lie, it feels good to earn some money.  Part of my paycheck will go toward paying my older children who helped me. I totally believe in a helping hand without charge, but I also believe in showing tangible appreciation.  They worked hard for me and I’m paying them for it.

I say this about showing tangible appreciation, and yet, I am one of the worst people when it comes to observing the national appreciation holidays.  If no one gets me a Mother’s Day card, that’s fine, I wouldn’t have even known or remembered it was Mother’s Day. But that also means I’m not going to be the one to think about buying or sending a card.  The way things go, I usually get several surprise cards and gifts.

So last year I called my mom and grandma, and bought flowers for my other mom and grandmas close by.  Lord willing I’ll try to do the same again tomorrow.  We’ve got church, then dinner out, and then supper at my husband’s aunt’s house. Whatever your plans are for Mother’s Day, friends, I hope you find someone to appreciate this year.





May flowers

May and October win the award for the bluest of skies.  There’s a three week window in the middle of spring, where the temperature holds as close to perfect as you can get.

The kids and I took advantage of the beautiful day.  It wasn’t too hot.  It wasn’t rainy or cold.  The windows were open while they worked on school and I folded the laundry.


I tried several times to sit down and write yesterday afternoon.  I wanted to call this post “laundry day” in honor of all the laundry we managed to get done in the morning.  Laundry day, however, seemed an incomplete assessment of what the day had entailed, and the day, at that point, was only half-lived.  It was too soon to write about something so unfinished.


There isn’t a set-in-stone laundry day around here.  It’s one of those things that’s always around, either clean piles or dirty ones.  One load here.  Another load there.  Every so often the days pass by without any laundry being done and it piles up more than the normal amount.  Mondays are the days I typically notice and get to washing.  They’re the days I’m most likely to focus on the starting and the switching, the drying and the folding.  Like eating bread or cookies, laundry in a basket is the best when it’s warm.


The morning was exceedingly peaceful.  It’s one of those things, that as a mother, I take note of.  Hours passed by without a fight or flight response.  Children took turns practicing piano.  One did a puzzle, another wrote out words, another one got frustrated with a difficult lesson.   I read aloud another chapter in the Brotherband Chronicles.


After lunch we went outside, and that is where we mostly stayed until supper.  One of the things on my to-do list was to see if Captain America: The First Avenger had yet been returned to the library.  I’ve been wanting to see it ever since we saw Endgame. The library we typically go to didn’t have it in, but the library the next town over did.


We took an afternoon drive and came home with the movie, ready to watch it after a strawberry shortcake supper. The kids rode their bikes and played on the swing-set and I also tried to get in some intentional exercise.  Jogging, stretching, walking, swimming.

After that, we went home.







April showers bring

I wrote my first syllogism today:

The basement floods whenever it rains
In the spring it rains a lot
Therefore, the basement floods a lot in the spring

But such is life, kitties, wouldn’t you say?

(They don’t always talk, but sometimes they do.)


There’s food on the deck when the rain settles down

And water in the wagons when the sun comes out


Puddles in the driveway, pine trees in the puddles

Galileo praying by the light of the moon.


simon’s lament

(Simon is a character in Singrid Undset’s novel, Kristin Lavrensdatter.  This is a remarkable book and I find myself thinking about it often as I read along. Toward the end of book two, I was struck by Simon’s plight.  There might be spoilers in here.)

You went away to the convent
promised to me
and in one year’s time
You came back to me

I found you with him,
Worthless Scoundrel of a Man!
having loosened his belt,
tasted your lips
and spit in my face

What he had was mine
and what was it in him!
Never once had I stolen!
But there were your shoes
hiding under his bed

Take him and go!
Your sister will have me
Your father will forgive

Because I love you
I’ll keep hidden your feelings
and bury mine forever

Wait, and you’ll see
Why can’t you see
and can’t you see it even now!

My love for you remains
for endings like ours
are never truly over