Here

 

Momma deer with her two fawns

“Here!” (Eighth grade roll call, we had to say it loud and clear or face the consequences.)

“I’m here,” I said, arriving late to work.

Here is where I’ll stand.

Present

My spot

My place

My home

This is where I’ll be if you need me. Right here (points to feet).

“You are here,” written on hundreds of park and zoo maps of the places I’ve visited.

“Right here,” said my mom pointing to a dot on the atlas. “This is where we should be.”

-

Here is present.

Here is reality as I know it.

Here, right now, I type on my old laptop that needs replacement, a view of dark skies beginning to brighten as the sun approaches again, but this time with no clouds.

Here is my desk, my day timers, my to-do lists, my notes for several devotionals and books, my mom’s novel that needs editing so we can publish it.

Here there are several desk lamps illuminating my work in amber light.

Here is a view of my yarn stashed in various clear totes organized somewhat by color.

Here, covered in projects, is also my sewing machine, which emerges with the first snow fall.

Here is where the fish tank ended up with its three occupants after all the children moved out.

Here is where three, then two of my girls shared a room with bunk beds and art still painted on the ceiling.

Here are shelves and cabinets of office supplies, copies of my books to sell or give away, blank notebooks of many kinds purchased on clearance, and art supplies.

Here is where I made phone calls and wrote stories for Richland Source online newspaper. Here is where I tried several other online employments, none of which went anywhere, but all of which taught me something.

Here is where I study. Here is where several first drafts of novels were composed in Novembers past. (National Novel Writing Month)

Here are my current financial records, check books, receipts, envelopes, paper, stamps, sticky address labels, and bills.

Here is a small collection, part of a larger collection, of devotionals, Bibles, notebooks, and prayer books.

Here is the desk my husband created for me, built into the wall, sturdy enough for his six-foot-two frame to stand on. It’s not going anywhere.

Here a variety of artwork graces the walls in a sort of eclectic way, wood carvings, mixed media on canvas, wall stickers, tiny cut-out butterflies, a set of Christmas paintings created on a mother-daughter paint night, and a curio shelf with gifts given to me by my grown children.

Also here is where we stash stuff when company is on the way. Here is where I keep the boxes we took from my mom’s house as they await going-through. Here is the part-time residence of the new vacuum and a box of frames. And here, top shelf, is where I keep the Christmas cards.

Here is my happy place, chaotic though it is most of the time. Here is where the gifts are wrapped, the poems composed, the prayers uttered.

Here is me.

Half and Half

 

“The tank is at half. We’re good for now.” (on a trip to Wisconsin)

“We’re down to half a gallon!” (yelling about milk from inside the frig)

I was only half listening. (the patron complaining about the city’s electric)

By half and half again.

The only thing worse than seeing a worm in your apple, is seeing half a worm.

Half an hour later…

Half and half is best with coffee.

“I got paid time and a half!”

“Wait half a minute, will you?”

-

Are you a glass half-full or a glass half-empty person? I think I’m both. I like to keep things positive so that would make me a glass-half full person. Look, see? We still have some. We’re okay.

But then, after raising a family, I’m always on the alert to be prepared for shortages. When the gallon of milk is half-empty, I go to the store to get more. When we are using the last peanut butter jar, I go to get more so we don’t run out. In the winter I’m obsessed with the percentage on the propane tank. Propane means hot meals and warm house.

Half-empty is about running out.

Thank God I don’t have to worry. Even if the milk runs out and the driveway is covered in deep snow, it will be okay. We can survive without milk. Even if the propane tank runs out, we have other ways to stay warm. Even when my energy level is below zero, God will give me the strength I need to do what must be done.

Don’t worry.

Be the half-full person.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” Philippians 4:6 (NASB)

 

P.S. Also this passage came to mind …

“I heard the man dressed in linen, who was above the waters of the river, as he raised his right hand and his left toward heaven, and swore by Him who lives forever that it would be for a time, times, and half a time; and as soon as they finish shattering the power of the holy people, all these events will be completed.” Daniel 12:7 NASB

(I have no comment on this.)

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Random Disruptions

But it might disrupt my schedule.

A mother’s life is full of disruptions.

Company disrupts my daily routine.

He constantly disrupted the class.

There was a disruption in power and later I had to reset all the clocks.

The two fawns in the backyard were a welcome disruption in the conversation.

The trees disrupt my view of the sunset.

Life is full of disruptions.

Once the train of thought in my mind is disrupted by an interruption it is sometimes impossible to get that train back on the track.

-

Write it down.

That has always been my rule. If I don’t write it down, it might be lost forever. There is no way to prove this however since I can’t remember the things I forgot because I didn’t write them down.

It seems that social media and local news media and entertainment have been training my brain in disruption. Shows and movies are disrupted by commercials, news programs are tiny bits of information strung together by meaningless comments meant to entertain, songs are cut short for an unimportant announcement. In my own brain, I can be quietly thinking about a project or situation and suddenly something else rudely pushes it out of the way to take up the working space in my mind.

But then again, I’ve always had this problem. I’ve never been diagnosed, but friends have mentioned the ADHD brain. I’ve read books on it and have found I’m already doing some of the things the experts suggest.

Like writing things down.

There have been a lot of disruptions to my life this past year and I’ve gotten lazy with my writing routine. One technique I used on a regular basis I gave up because in my stressed state I thought it was just too much … one more thing … and I was tired.

But I’ve recently picked it up again. I keep several notepads and sticky notes near me wherever I am. When the thought pops into my head I write it down. Since I started The Practice up again, I’ve felt better, more focused, calmer.

Maybe it wasn’t social media after all.