106. These days…

June 2, 2014June 2, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 15 Comments

“The purpose of art is washing the daily dust of life off our souls.” — Pablo Picasso

The last few weeks there has been a lot of daily dust on my soul. On my body too, as we sweep the city house clean of grime, stuff, and collected junk. Touching every single item that takes up space in this house, getting rid of the stuff that needs gotten rid of, and storing and keeping the sweet memories. It has taken its toll. Alternately at peace yet anxious, content yet wistful, it’s lovely to see the gardens beautiful again, the rooms freshly painted, the porches clean and inviting, and junk cleared out. For two years I’ve wanted to be at the cottage; these days I find myself wanting to be here at the city house, enjoying these last days before we sell it.

At work, too, it is the same. This is my last week. We must give up the old to embrace the new, and I’m ready to do that. But then I get sixty cards from students telling me how much they will miss me, thanking me for being in their lives, drawing me pictures of their favorite books, hugs goodbye, and I’m wistful again.

Beauty helps. I’m so glad that we are not moving in the winter. I can sit outside in the green and watch birds, take pictures of flowers, and feel the beauty of it all washing the dust away from my tired body and needy soul.

Buzzards aren’t usually photographed for their beauty. But the turkey buzzard on the barn roof was a beauteous sight. There he sat, with his wings stretched out — long enough for me to admire him, run inside to grab my iPhone, take his picture, and then admire him for a few more minutes. Soon he was joined by his mate, but as I was adjusting the camera, he flew away. I didn’t get the photo of two turkey buzzards on the barn roof.

It looks to me as if he is praising God for this sunny, glorious spring afternoon. Yes, I know that is anthropomorphism, (perhaps it sounds more acceptable if we make it a literary allusion and call it personification?) and he was probably just airing out his wings…

Yet it reminded me to stretch out my arms and praise God for the sweet beauty of these days.

105. Sundays at the Cottage

May 18, 2014November 21, 2020 / Apple Hill Cottage / 19 Comments

There’s been much chaos in my life lately….

Dashing between two houses, fixing up one to live in, fixing up one to sell, both of us working jobs, and trying to balance everything? I am failing BIG TIME!

We went into this with our eyes wide open; we knew it would be hard and busy and no downtime.

After two years? I’m tired. Mr. H. C. is tired. We have iron-poor blood. Burnout with a capital B; Exhaustion with a capital E. I just want to sleep for three weeks straight.

In about three weeks the job that I have loved for nine years will be ended, our city house will be on the market (or soon will be) and we will be gently moving all summer (or until the house sells) to this unfinished cottage.

(Please understand: I am not whining or complaining. I still love the cottage. I can’t wait to get here–I just want to wimp out about the rest of the work we have to do!)

To Do List

Just looking at this ToDoList makes me tired. (You might notice that Write Blog Post is not on the ToDoList.) And this is only my list; it doesn’t begin to cover Mr. H.C.’s list.

Lately we’ve only been at the cottage on Sundays. There’s no time to do projects, so it has been a day of rest for me. (Not for Mr. H.C. — he has to get the tractor out and mow because the grass is growing like it’s spring or something…)

At first I fought it and called it forced rest. But today I am sitting on the porch with my glass of cider, heeding these rules:

We need this weekly rest. God knew it and named it — Sabbath rest. It is restful to sit here and look at the sky and the trees and listen to the bird song and the trill of a woodpecker. Today it’s a little chilly, so I have a blanket and a kitty for warmth. Yes, there is a breeze.

There’s a ton of stuff I have to do. I see my ToDoList when I close my eyes. I hear the world’s voice in my worries: If you don’t get that house on the market by June, it will never sell. And then what will you do? You need to be more efficient with your time. Etc. Etc.

And then sometimes, when I’m listening, I hear the still, small voice: Peace my child. I am in control. Give me your worries and submit to my time.

That’s what a Sabbath rest is for, and it is why God ordained it. He knew we would never stop working, shopping, tending, doing, (add your verb here) long enough to listen for His voice.

And so for today, I am efficiently using my time — resting and listening and banishing any visions of a ToDoList that might flutter across my eyes.

Yes, I wish I had my cat’s ToDoList…

85. Dithering

October 14, 2013October 20, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 15 Comments

We spend a lot of time dithering…

siding boards

Trying to figure out every angle before we start, so we won’t be surprised.

It never works, and we just end up with a work stoppage.

Yesterday, after a morning of spectacular dithering, I wondered to myself why we don’t discuss these problems on the way back and forth from house to house. We’ve got plenty of time; the drive is at least an hour, and that’s if all the cars and drivers are behaving. (And the cat; when the cat misbehaves we end up with a conversation stoppage…).

But then I realized that we don’t discuss these problems because they are Unforeseen. Unexpected. Unknowns.

While we were dithering
about the project
before we started,
we never thought THAT
would happen,
even though
we thought
that we had thought
of Everything
causes dithering again.

Painting of Apple Hill Cottage, ca.1973

When the cottage first became ours, it was rather like a new romance. Oh, we wandered around thinking of possibilities — how grand it would be if we could put in hardwood floors here; and maybe we could raise the roof there; and perhaps if we enclosed this part of the back porch it would make a lovely guest bedroom…
The basic plan was to bring the cottage back to the way it looked originally (as close as we could get it, at least…) That wasn’t dithering; it was dreaming, and wondering, and expanding possibilities.

But the honeymoon is over now because we have spent almost every spare moment working on this cottage. Nothing can surprise us now, and some of the charm has been lost in the reality of sweat, blood, finances, time, ~~arguments~~ discussions, and just plain exhaustion. It’s an old house; suddenly we have to move to plan B because the furnace blew up. Or suddenly we have to leave Plan A to fix the roof because it is leaking. Or suddenly we have to change Plan A because the new siding isn’t quite the same as the old siding… Can we just be done already and get on with life?

No? Then, let’s at least stop dithering and get on with the plan. (Uh, was that Plan A or Plan B?)

The troubles come when glitches occur in the actual plan. Sort of like life? Glitches abound. And are we going to dither; or are we ready to accept the problem, embrace the setback, and make the delay part of the plan?
peeling paint
And here is where Jesus can help. If we are trying to live life according to His plan, well then, it’s His plan — it’s not our plan. We just like to think it’s our plan and that we are in charge. And when we get too uppity about it, God will remind us. Most of the time He reminds us gently, and that’s when we are to say, “Oh, yes. God, it is yours, not mine. Forgive me for trying to take over.”

Lawn chairs in fall

Sometimes it’s a big thing; sometimes we just see through the glass darkly and we fight and kick and struggle for weeks, months, years… until the glass clears and we finally get it — the fight belongs to Him, not us. He made us and we are his. We are his people, the sheep of his pasture. (Psalm 100:3)

We dither because we are sheep. I know, it’s not a pleasant comparison, but there it is. Picture sheep running around the gated pasture bleating in confusion. Going nowhere and running in those circles cause befuddlement, bewilderment, agitation, and demoralization. Don’t ask me how I know this… (Read Luke 15 to be reminded. I need to be reminded of this often…)

But we have a good shepherd to lead us — one who never gives up on us no matter how far we wander;

mist in the hills

one who loves each one of us not because we are good, bad, black, or white, but simply because we are his;

one who constantly cares for us if we would just allow it.
the heavens

Note to self: Dithering is believing that your own plans might be better than God’s amazing plans! Embrace the delays and know that you are being taught something important.

Note to God: “Yes, God, it is truly yours, not mine. Forgive me for trying to take over.”