It’s Friday… I’m Home Alone for my day off. Meaning, my family is all gone, at school, at work, or at Trista’s… there is a guy here wearing booties (how considerate!) & a big tool belt, taking lots of pictures of the structure & the ground. See, we’ve got a ‘warranty inspection’ for the 1 year anniversary of the house going on as i speak, so the whole, ‘stranger in my house’ vibe is happening & I’m pretending that its not. He’s nice, personable, & most importantly, is working on working, not on talking to me. :)
Wasser mit Kohlensäure is the best for quenching one’s thirst. I love it. Don’t like bubbles in your water? Give it to me.
Cleaned out my closet this a.m. All my clothes that don’t fit anymore… turns out I’ve been stockpiling old (& big) jeans, as well as worn out tshirts. I think the jeans are going on eBay (they’re new-ish… just about 4 sizes too big now, post diet). The tshirts are in the trash, with their holes & crusty stuff intact. Goodbye tshirts.
Cleaning out the ‘German Room” closet… for Julia. Countdown 4 days.
BBQ’d Tri-tip last night. 7 out of 10. Know what I’d do different to take it up a notch. Lower temperature on the BBQ, which requires a new BBQ. Or maybe a return to charcoal. At least it’s been confirmed that the gas beast we’ve got has officially given up the ghost. GRHS…
Life hurts. Sometimes more than others. I’ve been pondering Westley’s statement:
Life IS pain, highness. Anyone who says different is selling something.
I can empathize with Westley, (after serving on the Pirate ship “Revenge” under the dread pirate, Roberts, separated from his true love for 5 years… yeah, that would lead to such an outlook. But I don’t want to live carrying pain, as though the pain happened just yesterday, never working through, never getting past. Living in hurt. Woundedness. I think what I’ve found over the last year is that a key (THE key?) component of moving through & past pain, hurt, etc. is the grieving process. I have intentionally (& in some cases melodramatically) embraced the grieving process, staying in it, without apology, almost without regard for what others might think (have thought? & felt free to discuss amongst themselves…) Grieving. Feeling the fullness of the pain, the hurt, the sadness, the loss. And coming back to God’s truth about me, my life, my family, my relationships, my identity, my hope.
And the wounds haven’t festered. And I’m not minimized by my grief, my weakness, my own frailty. I feel as though I have perspective that I didn’t a year ago. I’m comfy in my own skin, & ok with the imperfect brokenness all around, & in me. Sigh.
A first for the clan: all 3 kids have games tomorrow, in 3 different sports. Pasty has football, Joey has fall ball (baseball,) & the Weez has Proper Football (known in the US of A as Soccer…) Yay.