Tuesday, July 9, 2013

You Are Cordially Invited…


It’s been over a month since I posted.  I mentioned that we were heading east to visit with my parents and I know many of you have been praying for our family.  Thank you!  We went, we visited, and when we came home, I simply allowed myself to get absorbed into our family’s summer activities. 

Our visit to Pennsylvania was wonderful, and terrible.  Wonderful, because we had such nice visits with Mom and Dad and my brother’s family—and even some dear friends.  Terrible because the reality of my dad’s declining health was painful to see.

Now that he has stopped the chemo, the drastic ups and downs have been replaced with a more gentle decline—and for that, we are thankful.

While we were there, we simply enjoyed the normal things we do when we visit—albeit a little less at a time.

We sat on the porch.  We watched endless fishing, hunting and woodworking shows. :)  We played cards.  And we did some yard work around the house.

This is my little guy watering the flowers we planted.  I took the picture while sitting on the front porch swing of their old farm house.  It’s one of my dad’s favorite places to sit, as it was mine growing up.

Although I try, it is impossible to forget what lies ahead.  I guess that’s why I’ve immersed myself in the normal this summer.  And avoided blogging for a spell.

Normal for me includes getting lost in the crowd watching my kids play soccer, tending my hens and garden, spending endless hours on the mower, taking long walks in the evenings, and just plain sitting on the porch in the rain all by myself.  These kinds of things have offered spells of solitude where I can take a deep breath and reflect on God’s tender care and incredible blessings.  These are the things I do when I need to reclaim my peace.    

After a springtime of riding the stormy swells, I feel like I’m finally back on mostly solid ground.  And missing my blog friends.

My oldest son joked today when he saw me sitting here at the keyboard.

“You haven’t blogged in forever.  I bet you don’t have any readers anymore.” 

We laughed.  And I said, “You might be right.  But that’s ok.”

And it is.

It’s hard to explain—especially if any of you reading this haven’t been walking this blogging road for very long.  But the experience changes with the passing of time.  After a while, at least for me, you totally forget about memes, statistics, numbers and readership.

It becomes something personal.  One day, you realize you are writing letters to friends you feel like you’ve known all your life.  Friends who have so much in common you actually smile at random times during the day as you imagine them doing the exact same things.  Friends whom I’ve missed this summer!

I’m anxious to catch up on what everyone’s been up to!  And today, I set about taking pictures of things I want to share with you, too. You are hereby cordially invited!  Let’s get together for some coffee, shall we?  If nothing else, we can sit on the porch and watch the never-ending rain that’s turning my yard into a rainforest! :)


Kim @ Homesteader's Heart said...

I'm still here my friend. And I know this season of your life is hard right now. But it sounds like you are doing exactly what you should be doing.
I've learned the same lesson you have about blogging. It's not about readership or memes or numbers. It just gets personal and you end up writing for yourself. I love when people stop by, don't get me wrong but it's not WHY I write any more.
Still praying for you my friend.
Love ya!

Cheryl Jordan said...

Glad to hear that you are more at peace with your Dad's illness. I'm happy you had a nice visit. Still praying for you and the family.

Mari said...

I'm still here and some time on the porch sounds wonderful!
I'm glad you were able to spend some time with your parents. It's precious and was needed by all.
Praying for all of you.

Christina said...

<3 Still here. I was actually just thinking about you recently. We've been doing a lot of "porching" this summer too; somehow it just seems right.