Sittin' on the stoop

Picket

In the last two years I've held six jobs.
Been in 28 states.
Traveled to El Salvador to drill water wells.
Consumed at least 2,000 cups of coffee. 
Written a children's book and two novels.
Driven seven different cars for at least a day -- plus a few extras for just a ways.
Lived in six houses -- in five different towns and three different states.
Hung out with six horses, six dogs, five cats, two fish, and one bird.
Made many new friends.
Said goodbye more often than I'd like.
Worn the same Teva sandals I've worn for nine years.

Don't overlook that last point. One pair of sandals. Nine years. Other than God, my family, my friends, and this crazy wanderlust of a spirit God gave me, I sometimes feel like those Tevas are about the only constant in my life.

Please understand I am not complaining. I actually feel very, very, very blessed to live the life I'm living. (Just a hint: Any time a journalist uses the word, "Very," she is very serious. Adverbs are evil; they are only to be used in extreme cases of expression.)

And please also understand I'm writing this post in a somewhat sleep-deprived state. I know I'll probably read it tomorrow after a good night's shut-eye and feel like I totally exaggerated. But at this very moment, I gotta say what I gotta say.

And that is...

Sometimes I just want that white picket fence. And a welcome mat on which to wipe my muddy, adventure-worn sandals.

The dog days of...winter?

Woke up to a winter wonderland the other morning. The dogs made me come out and play. 

The rainbow is from a couple days later...after a downpour in which I was very glad for my rubber boots and my cowboy hat while feeding the horses!

The Russian hat is not mine. I wish it was. I had to borrow it because mine is packed away now and it was c-c-c-o-l-d outside. May just have to buy me one of those and embrace my German-Russian roots!

The trees for the forest

The view out my current kitchen window is: A lot of trees. Thousands upon thousands. Upon thousands. Douglas Fir. Lodgepole Pine. Blue Spruce. A few aspens. And a lot of others I can't readily identify.

They are beautiful. And they make me claustrophobic. I am a Wyoming girl. I am a girl of wide open spaces, rocky peaks and ever-blue sky. Here the rain falls for days. Here gray bleeds into green. Here the mountains are revealed only when the gods of mist and cloud choose to reveal them.

It is different from what I've always known.

But different is not bad. I am learning to appreciate this new, somewhat melancholy beauty.

Last night I was looking out my window at the forest below when I noticed ONE scrawny aspen standing tall among its green brethren. It looked like reverse lightning, like lightning that shoots from ground to sky. My eyes were riveted by its stunning white bark.

I laughed and exclaimed out loud -- you do that when you live alone in the woods of Montana -- that I could see the trees for the forest! I was so proud of myself until I realized today that the saying is actually, "Can't see the forest for the trees." Doh.

The saying actually means you should NOT get focused on one or two "trees" (i.e. issues) in life and miss the big picture -- the forest. It's a good point.

But I beg to differ for just a moment. When I look out my proverbial window, I often see only the forest. And that is when I get claustrophobic. I see this giant spectrum called life and freak out a bit -- especially when I know I must descend into it and find my way blindly through, only hoping to "bump into" certain trees (career, place to live, marriage, children) along the way. 

Last night, however, when my eyes were fixed on that one aspen, I began to appreciate the forest that surrounded it. I began to see the dew on the pine needles, the bend of the boughs, the different shades of green, both in the varying trees and in each tree by itself. Seeing the trees for the forest made the forest a lot less daunting.

Now, I know there is a way to blend these two ideas. It is not good to only see the forest for the trees or to see only the trees for the forest. At times we must focus on one issue, but we must also know when to walk away from that one "tree" and notice how it fits into the forest and how small it is when put in perspective.

Perhaps the saying should be: Look at the forest, grab an umbrella, take a walk, and don't forget to stop and smell the roses on the way to the hill where you can look at the forest again.

Please don't quote me on that.

5,000 words

If anything is excellent...

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Philippians 4:8

This verse has been coming to mind a lot lately for me. It is one of my favorites -- and also one of the hardest ones for me to follow on a daily basis.

I know I've shared on this blog before that I struggle a bit with depression. It has steadily improved through the years, lasting for shorter durations (hours or days instead of weeks or months) and not going nearly as deep into my being.

When it was at its worst in college, there were times I felt like I was being buried from the inside, like piles and piles of heavy, suffocating dirt were pouring into me, filling me from the toes up, much like the sand in an hourglass timer.

I would stop moving my feet -- literally -- and just lay in bed and cry. Next I would get sick to my stomach and stop eating. Then, as it filled me more, I would stop talking to both loved ones and God. Eventually I'd feel like I couldn't think or focus. That is when the panic attacks would strike, leaving me paralyzed with anxiety, huddled on the floor, struggling to even breathe.

I'm happy to report I've felt none of those symptoms in probably two years! I suppose there's several reasons, ranging from taking the almighty B-vitamin, to having some really good friends enter my life, to learning how to say no when I know something will overwhelm me, to simply taking a nap when I feel tired (what a concept, huh?). Also, my parents and some dear friends (who were all likely hurt by my depression before) have done a good job of keeping me talking. My deepest thanks go to them (Ma, Pa, Jo, Lins, Shack, Bex, Sar, Liz) for their love and faithfulness.

But, back to the point of this blog, huh? And that is: If anything is excellent...

I am God's beloved girl.
The mountains are brilliant white with fresh snow.
God is a God of joy.
One of my best friends just made a lifelong dream come true by moving to Alaska.
Another best friend is about to have her first baby.
I just drank some awesome French-pressed coffee.
The puppy is sleeping peacefully.
The dogs are making me laugh.
I have friends serving (or about to serve) on the mission field.
I get to go home soon.
God is a God of mercy.
I can look out my windows onto a blanket of pine trees shrouded in mist.
God has given me an abundant life.