[The following is a spontaneous post direct from Raw, just because I felt like it. Hope you have a really lovely day today.]
Happy New Year! Because I was still recovering from being sick, Dave and I didn’t do anything last night but sit by the fire and read. And then go to bed around 10 for more of same. Then, at 11, suddenly Dave was kneeling by the bed with wine glasses and champagne–except it wasn’t, it was Martinellie’s sparkling cider. I laughed and fell in love.
He sat on the edge of the bed and we poured glasses and toasted to a bunch of things. Best of all, we spent a few minutes trying to really look into each other’s eyes until we got that flicker–that little bolt of connection that can happen when you give that kind of looking a chance. It was so wonderful. I had a 2nd glass. Yep, we really went to town.
While we drank, we reflected on what a HUGE year it was. TWO of our five kids got married. I finally finished and sold my book (and the finishing was by far the greater miracle, as we’d both begun to suspect by now that it wasn’t a project with an actual end, but part of a new mental illness I had). Dave got to acquire some amazing authors for Convergent–of the kind he never dreamed he’d be going after because in one way or another, they’re edgy for the Christian market. We got to go to New York and see two plays and watch ice skaters at Bryant park. We got to go to the Grand Canyon in the camper, too. And it was as big as I hoped, but still small next to God.
I am blessed beyond belief. So blessed that I don’t think I can ask for more blessings in good conscience, until I remember that God’s blessings aren’t limited and someone else isn’t lacking because I am not. Maybe what I need to pray isn’t that I get less blessed but that I become more of a blessing to others because of it. I don’t pay forward nearly enough of what I get.
I keep thinking about my blog, and how easy it is to forget that IT’S NOT about me. Yesterday’s post was all about me. And yet, I have to remember that writers write out of our lives in the hopes that others will relate. But still, God help me, I want to learn how to write to and for my readers, how to serve them with a whole heart, how to encourage and uplift them.
Today is another white day. I overslept. I hope to write a post and otherwise just clean up Christmas. Pack it away. That sounds so sad, doesn’t it? This morning I started at the front of my daily Bible again and of course, it is all off, so far as timing. Mary and Joseph are just now having Jesus and the wise men worshipping–with exceeding joy.
Exceeding joy. I’d like some of that in association with worship. Do I do enough of that? Just get on my knees and say thank you a hundred times in a hundred ways? I don’t. Help me, God.
I was inspired this morning by Elizabeth Esther’s blog from yesterday. She’s planning to actually blog every day this year, just let it blab out. Amazing. I wish I could embrace that kind of spontanéité. I worry too much that people will get tired of me filling up their inbox without enough to say to warrant taking up the space.
But personally, I think EE is brilliant and amazing and funny and I can’t wait to read her posts every day.
This morning, Dave was getting ready to walk Edmund just as I was finally getting up. He told me that Edmund hates his coat, that after he put it on him for the walk, Edmund didn’t want to go anymore, so he took it off. I balked. “No way! He loves his coat!” So I grabbed it and put it back on Edmund while Dave waited, leash in hand.
“Whatever,” Dave said, and they went. But I have to admit, Edmund did look a bit abashed. Still, I wonder if it’s not Dave who is embarrassed to walk a dog in a coat. Is that a man thing? Is it also a little embarrassing for a man to walk a small dog? Does Dave feel inadequate somehow when he passes what we always remind Edmund are “real” dogs?
Bah. No, Dave is too much of a man for that. And yes, I am in still in love from last night so I might be a little blind.