Restful Saturday at home

treeThere is something so deliciously satisfying about an afternoon nap; joyous partly due to the sheer infrequency you get to enjoy the pleasure.  There you are, adrift on the ocean of peaceful slumber so sweet, languidly waking, body warm beneath a cozy blanket.  Equally wonderful is slowly coming alive to the sounds of a fire and family; book pages turning, quiet conversation, a soft snore from someone enjoying the same wondrous pleasure;

Lazily peering over your publication of choice, admiring those whom you love, the scent of holiday baking and lunch left overs hovering in the air.  Relishing these all too rare moments, living in them, appreciating them.  Thankful that in this moment, there is no rush, no deadline and nothing on social media worthy of stealing this time of hushed leisure.

Time is ticking, hurriedly rushing forward to the next hour.  May we cherish restful times like these and the cherished ones we share them with.  It’s too easy to squander our time with loved ones during the holidays as we get caught up in the hustle and bustle.  We should strive to truly “be there” in every shared moment.

Happy December 1st,
Blessings,

Lisa

“Mommy, be my safe”

IMG-1434When my eldest was around 3 years old, she began to express her fears or concerns with her own original phrase that I thought was just precious.

When we found ourselves in situations where there appeared to be a cause for concern, she would nestle her tiny little body up close to mine and quietly say, “Mommy, be my safe.”  She meant, protect me and shelter me until the threat has passed.  It could be stormy weather or a creepy noise, or that stranger in the grocery store who got a little too close for comfort.

Whatever the peril, she trusted that I would save her from it.  Wrapped around mommy’s legs, with one sticky little hand in mine, she could be at peace.

Yesterday afternoon as the sky darkened, it started to thunder and the wind was bending the tree branches and lightning cracked across the sky.  We went from sunshine to eerie skies, with the promise of a good storm.  My youngest granddaughter came over to me and buried her little head in my lap and then looked up with her big blue eyes and said, “Nana, what noise?”  She’s always said that when she hears a noise that upsets her.  We have always speculated that all the time spent in the NICU and the strange noises might have affected her in some way, so we are always quick to reassure her that all is well.

Her cuteness reminded me of my daughter’s cuteness years before and I smiled thinking of the all the times that we have cried out for help from our Father.   What do our cries for help sound like to Him?  Are there times He thinks we are “cute”?  Do our petitions ever bring a smile to His face because of the way we phrase them?  I think so.

The storms of life roll through without warning, we are exposed to traumatic things all day on whatever type of media we choose, there is so much noise.  Noise, by definition,  is “a sound that is loud or unpleasant that causes a disturbance”.  Yes, there is much noise in our world.

Thankfully, like my daughter and granddaughter, I have a safe haven, a place where I can run to find peace and comfort.  I can cry out to God, “What noise?!?!”  As He stills and comforts my spirit with His still small voice, I can lean in and say, “Be my safe.”  And, He will, every time.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Just call me ears

Weekly Writing Challenge:  Eavesdropping

This prompt immediately brought me back to a story from my childhood.

It was the summer before 3rd grade and definitely some of the leaner years for my family, fiscally speaking.  My dad had been a fishing guide, a commercial fisherman and a stone crabber and was still doing the latter two.  Some of the locals from our Southwest FL community would often go to Louisiana and fish whenever things weren’t going as well here.  I’m not sure if it was the lack of product, the prices or just the need for a change that compelled my dad to try his luck in Louisiana, but I wasn’t very happy about it.

News travels fast in a small town and it wasn’t long until people were talking about our impending move and lamenting on what in the world my grandparents would do without those grand babies.  I overheard people wondering if my dad was doing the right thing and guessing as to why he might be going.  I didn’t repeat any of that, at least that I recall.  It is possible that I did though, because if I got in trouble it was usually because I said something I shouldn’t have said or repeated something that was not meant to leave the family dinner table.

My relatives would tell you I was infamous for pretending to read a book and listening to all sorts of juicy tidbits.  I remember sometimes one of them would clear their throat and motion my direction and mouth the word “ears”.  It really isn’t my fault that they chose to speak in front of me anyway.  If the information was classified, they should have known not to say it within earshot of me.  I feel like I need to clarify that my family was not the type that sat around gossiping about people, because they were far from it.  My dad was very strict about how we treated others and taught us to treat everyone with respect.  The things discussed were normally family business that just didn’t need to be shared.

We were sitting in our car, my mom and I and possibly my brother and sister, although it was much more likely that they had jumped out with my dad to check on his boat.  One of my great-aunts was walking up to my mom’s window to chat.  She had on her polyester pants and sunglasses; she always seemed to sport both.  She was smiling and talking to my mother and I and she looked at me and said, “Honey, now why is your daddy going to carry you off to Louisiana?”  I replied, “Because he said he is tired of nosy, busy body relatives knowing all of his business”.

The conversation ended shortly thereafter, for reasons I only understood in retrospect.  It took the talk and the spanking to drive it home.  The talk hurt worse than the spanking because I came to realize that I had hurt someone’s feelings and possibly marred my dad’s reputation as the nice young man that he was, who had great respect for his elders.

I am sure my eavesdropping got me into trouble other times as well, but eventually I learned.  I was taught that it was rude and nosy and shouldn’t be done. However, I believe there are times when it is appropriate.   For example, as a parent, I did profit a few times by eavesdropping whereby gaining information I would never have been privy to otherwise; information that aided in better parenting.   I don’t know any parents who haven’t  employed it with teenagers.

In our times of crowded subways, office cubicles and people who seem to want the world to hear their cell phone conversations, it is very difficult not to “listen in ” at times.  I think the rules of etiquette have changed on this one , but I still try to show good manners by moving away from something that I overhear, when it’s clear the conversation is private.

Painting in circles

SONY DSCYesterday I did something I haven’t done in approximately 35 years.  I painted buoys that will be used on our recently acquired stone crab traps. I have really tried to distance myself from this particular venture and vowed inwardly that I would not get sucked into the labor crew in any capacity.

SONY DSC

However, finding myself looking out the window at my hubby hard at work yesterday as I sat inside contemplating what to do, I caved.   I changed clothes, marched right out there and said, “What can I do to help?”  A few moments later, there I was, brush in hand; yellow paint drops already appearing on my flip-flop clad feet, as I made my way down the line of buoys.

As I painted, fond memories assailed me of a line of buoys strung between 2 big fichus trees in the front yard.  My brother, sister and I, adorned in “play clothes”, were anxious to paint blue circles on my dad’s buoys.  My dad was a commercial fisherman and stone crabber at the time, and depending on the task and our skill level, we could occasionally provide cheap labor.  However, if I remember correctly our great desire to work never lasted through many lines of buoys.  I will have to remember to ask my dad if we gave up on them or if he and my grandfather just grew impatient with us and encouraged us to go play.

I do remember when the buoys first arrived, prior to the branding and painting, we would usually get into trouble due to the “buoy fights” we had with neighborhood kids.  Yes, it was just as it sounds; everyone would grab a buoy and try to hit someone; if you were hit, you were out.

I remember the smell when dad would brand the buoys with his own set of numbers.  It’s funny how that smell still evokes so many childhood memories.

My husband and I both have other careers, but this will be a “supplemental” one for him and I pray it proves to be fruitful.  It is something he has always wanted to try.  So, I have decided that instead of lamenting his longer hours, fearing the imagined problems, and distancing myself from it all, it is far better to jump in, support and even try to muster up some excitement about it.

But for now, I have buoys to paint.

line of buoys stretching to the sky

line of buoys stretching to the sky

 

The Godly Chic Diaries

BY GRACE THROUGH FAITH

Daily Doodle

Art doesn't have to be worthy to be worth sharing

The Anonymous Writer's Notebook

Create, Share, Inspire

Jo Ann Maxwell

How a diagnose of a chronic disease turned my world upside down.

Let The Light In ~ Reflections

Reflections of a Christian (Cafeteria) Roman Catholic on Religion, Faith and Life Today

The Meat & Potatoes of Life

By Lisa Smith Molinari

The Shepherd's Presence

Living under the guidance of the Good Shepherd. All of living should be lived in light of God's Word. I enjoy taking life's litte parts and making them practical, yet have spiritual depth.

Laura's Lens

Taking a look at the beauty around us

Trailing Ellipsis...

Pausing Every Day To Find Jesus On The Trail

Believe.

Let your children believe.

Artsy Wanderer

a stroll through life

Austenprose - A Jane Austen Blog

Join the celebration of Jane Austen novels, movies, sequels and the pop culture she has inspired

average2athlete

EAT like an Athlete, TRAIN like an Athlete, THINK like an Athlete...BE an Athlete.

THE RIVER WALK

Daily Thoughts and Meditations as we journey together with our Lord.

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Long walks and dark chocolate

Life as a wife, mom, nana and follower of Christ; hoping to share from lessons learned

This Caring Heart

From a heart that cares ... sometimes too much

%d bloggers like this: