Mr. B doesn't like to talk to me. Oh, he'll tell me old stories, like when he was growing up, and all about "the can plant" and a few Snorkel memories, but that's all! We don't discuss and sadly we don't share happy memories. The good times I have, don't involve him, per his choice and there's no indication he's enjoyed himself since the turn of this century. I'll be honest here, I spent some time blaming him, and probably even more time doubting that I'd heard G-d at all regarding this marriage, but then it dawned on me. Every moment that I spend thinking about the last 13 years . . . sigh; and every complaint I state about the last 13, and every doubt I ponder, is time I can't get back.
I can't change what happened 13 years ago, but I can sure stop dwelling on the doubt and the disappointment. So many promises were broken and so many statements made that there simply is no desire to reconcile our situation or relationship, but we can choose to not invest time poorly. I can't make someone love me or share my joy in Adonai, but no one can take my joy. I can choose, however; to lose my joy . . . or not. At the end of the day, week, month, or year, all I can do is determine if I did what I should have done, regardless of what was returned. Truth be told, I really like the space this relationship affords me. As I've shut up and stopped trying to analyze it, I've discovered I'm actually not interested in changing the way things are between us. This is as close to having my cake and eating it too, as anyone could have!
The only power over choice I have is power over the choices I make. Choice is a sore spot for me because before I married Mr. B, he was talking about making a decision of some kind, and I piped up encouragingly and proclaimed, "I'm all about choice!" In the last few days I have come to realize, even though there are some serious no-choices in my life, I can still choose what I think about and where I invest my energy. So many wonderful opportunities await, if we don't choose to spend our energy unwisely. Interestingly, as I was writing this another situation arose that has brought the same insight.
I'm suddenly and sadly aware that my attempt to obey the fifth commandment has extracted much unproductive energy. Some things simply will not change and of course the past cannot be undone or redone. I'm getting a lot of practice now at making sure what bounces through my head doesn't come flying out my mouth. I already have to repent for the thoughts I entertain, I don't want to have to repent for words that should remain unspoken!
It really is simple when I break it down incrementally. The energy spent to engage in an unproductive conversation is spent, never to be regained. Unproductive conversations usually have one of two outcomes. Thoughts that are unsaid can mulled over, and replayed, which is more wasted energy ruminating; or something regrettable is said, and that is sin. Not only wasted energy on a dead-end conversation, but sin, which is never energy well spent. Then add the time it takes to seek forgiveness of Abba and the additional energy it takes to apologize to the person.
I am still all about choice and I am choosing to spend less energy on things that are counterproductive and that usually involves words, but then Scripture already says that . . . repeatedly. None of us chose our parents and whether we are married or single, in good relationships or bad, we can choose how we react and how we spend our energy.
In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refraineth his lips
is wise. a Proverb of Holy Scripture
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Replace Rather Than Repair
As life is moving forward, and the calamity of last week's Sabbath has abated, rather than repair the deck, it will be replaced. The flooring itself may have had a couple more good years in it, but the gate is a complete goner and the railings are wobbly. Mr. B and I had already discussed calling a guy we knew for an estimate, but somehow that just never came to fruition. The goats provided the motivation to get serious about replacing the deck, but for some reason I just couldn't get around to calling the guy.
I designed the first deck and it was a homemade project. It held up well through a move and being resized for the addition, but enough is enough. The idea of more pedestrian traffic here in the Land of Goshen brought the realization, there is just no need to repair a deck that I already know will need to be replaced in two years. I'm getting practical like that . . .
I've become intensely aware of Abba directing my steps to blessings, through what first appears to be an inconvenience or problem. As we were coming home from town last week, we noticed someone building a deck. Since there was a large equipment truck, we assumed the builder was a contractor and turned around to talk to him. Sure enough, he was a contractor, gave us his card and said he'd be glad to give us a bid. We called him that evening and the other guy that I'd been stalling about calling and both said they'd be here Monday to size up the project.
Both men called Monday for directions to the place, but only one showed up that day. He looked it over, said he'd get back to us and by that evening we had a bid, and not a bad price at all! Wednesday was a town day, and as we were coming home, the guy that was a no show, Monday, was coming down the lane. He'd finally gotten around to dropping in to bid the job. He did that without anyone being home. It then dawned on me, from our previous dealings, why I'd not been too anxious to call him. When he called with his bid, it was nearly double the price of the first bid! I simply told him we'd talk it over.
The crew has been contracted to rebuild! Then I did the ultimate woman thing on them. They came to get started and I asked about making it larger . . . As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized for the first time in my life, I sounded like my mother. My entire life, when she sees someone working, my Daddy or myself, she invariably steps in to tweak. By nature, I'm not a tweaker, but the idea just hit me that this deck could be larger than first estimated. The men lit up and said, "No problem! Now's the time!" They got out the tape measures and went from there. I knew the best plan would be an additional 8 feet as that would eliminate sawing every board and minimize waste. They went to their truck to confer and refigure, came out and presented the increased cost. It was wonderful! Done deal!
As they were leaving, ready to start first thing Monday morning, I remembered the very nice drawing he'd already done for the original bid. I thought of my mother and her ever changing tweaking, so I asked them if there was something we needed to sign. They said they'd do right by me, to which I responded, I know that, I thought you might like my signature to ensure there are no more changes . . . They smiled and said, "See you tomorrow."
YHWH willing the former amateur 8' X 12' design will be replaced with a brand new professional 10' X 28' deck.
I designed the first deck and it was a homemade project. It held up well through a move and being resized for the addition, but enough is enough. The idea of more pedestrian traffic here in the Land of Goshen brought the realization, there is just no need to repair a deck that I already know will need to be replaced in two years. I'm getting practical like that . . .
I've become intensely aware of Abba directing my steps to blessings, through what first appears to be an inconvenience or problem. As we were coming home from town last week, we noticed someone building a deck. Since there was a large equipment truck, we assumed the builder was a contractor and turned around to talk to him. Sure enough, he was a contractor, gave us his card and said he'd be glad to give us a bid. We called him that evening and the other guy that I'd been stalling about calling and both said they'd be here Monday to size up the project.
Both men called Monday for directions to the place, but only one showed up that day. He looked it over, said he'd get back to us and by that evening we had a bid, and not a bad price at all! Wednesday was a town day, and as we were coming home, the guy that was a no show, Monday, was coming down the lane. He'd finally gotten around to dropping in to bid the job. He did that without anyone being home. It then dawned on me, from our previous dealings, why I'd not been too anxious to call him. When he called with his bid, it was nearly double the price of the first bid! I simply told him we'd talk it over.
The crew has been contracted to rebuild! Then I did the ultimate woman thing on them. They came to get started and I asked about making it larger . . . As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized for the first time in my life, I sounded like my mother. My entire life, when she sees someone working, my Daddy or myself, she invariably steps in to tweak. By nature, I'm not a tweaker, but the idea just hit me that this deck could be larger than first estimated. The men lit up and said, "No problem! Now's the time!" They got out the tape measures and went from there. I knew the best plan would be an additional 8 feet as that would eliminate sawing every board and minimize waste. They went to their truck to confer and refigure, came out and presented the increased cost. It was wonderful! Done deal!
As they were leaving, ready to start first thing Monday morning, I remembered the very nice drawing he'd already done for the original bid. I thought of my mother and her ever changing tweaking, so I asked them if there was something we needed to sign. They said they'd do right by me, to which I responded, I know that, I thought you might like my signature to ensure there are no more changes . . . They smiled and said, "See you tomorrow."
YHWH willing the former amateur 8' X 12' design will be replaced with a brand new professional 10' X 28' deck.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Whining
I've been whining for some time now to Abba, about the fact Mr. B doesn't treat me like a woman. I've taken it quite personally and very hard. I've never been treated this way before. It's very foreign and nothing I would choose. Sadly, after 13 years, it's not so foreign anymore, and my memories of being treated like a woman are fading into the distant past. Don't worry, I'm not confused. I know I'm a woman that was gifted with a great many capabilities and that's okay. I have no desire to be in competition with anyone, although between you, me, and the fence post, I wouldn't mind being treated as the "weaker vessel" once in awhile. That, however; is not reflective of my spiritual standing.
After the calamity on Sabbath, I realized, I really did just want a pair of big strong arms around me telling me everything would be okay. It wasn't a matter of lust, nor did I even include a body or face with those big strong arms, just took a few moments to acknowledge to myself I may be capable, but I'm not invincible. I could even get emotional, once in awhile, if there was a safe place to do so . . . and there is. My office in the early morning and outdoors. I guess I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that's just not my style. Yesterday morning, I just wanted someone to acknowledge my pain and allow me to dramatize my crisis. Remember Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie on the Dick Van Dyke show when she would just fall apart saying "Ooooooooh Rrrrrrrrrrrrob!" Ah well, back to reality.
As I read and pondered, thinking back to my simple invitation to Mr. B all those years ago. I met him at his church when he announced he had just taken a job that had him working week-end days, so he wouldn't be attending much for awhile. I was facilitating a Friday evening Torah study and oneg, so I simply handed him a card, mentioned the Friday evening gathering and said, "Don't lose fellowship." Now it's been a number of years, that I observe Sabbath alone. I thought of that, actually I think of it often. What would I be doing on Shabbat, if I hadn't handed him that card? Would I be enjoying fellowship? Would my life have turned out differently?
It was then that I simply determined it was time to put away all the questions and realize I am where I am for such a time as this. Another person's interest or lack thereof is irrelevant. I still get treated not only like a woman, but like a lady . . . they just aren't my husband and now, that's okay. As a matter of fact, it's just fine.
After the calamity on Sabbath, I realized, I really did just want a pair of big strong arms around me telling me everything would be okay. It wasn't a matter of lust, nor did I even include a body or face with those big strong arms, just took a few moments to acknowledge to myself I may be capable, but I'm not invincible. I could even get emotional, once in awhile, if there was a safe place to do so . . . and there is. My office in the early morning and outdoors. I guess I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that's just not my style. Yesterday morning, I just wanted someone to acknowledge my pain and allow me to dramatize my crisis. Remember Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie on the Dick Van Dyke show when she would just fall apart saying "Ooooooooh Rrrrrrrrrrrrob!" Ah well, back to reality.
As I read and pondered, thinking back to my simple invitation to Mr. B all those years ago. I met him at his church when he announced he had just taken a job that had him working week-end days, so he wouldn't be attending much for awhile. I was facilitating a Friday evening Torah study and oneg, so I simply handed him a card, mentioned the Friday evening gathering and said, "Don't lose fellowship." Now it's been a number of years, that I observe Sabbath alone. I thought of that, actually I think of it often. What would I be doing on Shabbat, if I hadn't handed him that card? Would I be enjoying fellowship? Would my life have turned out differently?
It was then that I simply determined it was time to put away all the questions and realize I am where I am for such a time as this. Another person's interest or lack thereof is irrelevant. I still get treated not only like a woman, but like a lady . . . they just aren't my husband and now, that's okay. As a matter of fact, it's just fine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)