MumJones

Reems of papers and noise

WOW! I feel so much better now that I have dumped on you all.

Some good things have actually been happening these last couple of weeks but as these terrible underlying thots were always present I felt dishonest to blog anything else before the terrible stuff could come out. Like I had to release it out so I could go forward. I actually feel alot better now. I wonder if it is just me but bringing dark thoughts out in the open cleanses me. I think a couple of nice comments from friends doesn't hurt either :-) Hope you don't mind.

Some good things. Our visa situation is looking better everyday. I am collecting reams of paperwork to get ancestry and dependants visas and it is much easier, less expensive and quicker than I thought. Still the bottom could fall out if God is not in it though, but it looks like He is.

Another thing on the kid side. Abigail was elected the girl student counsel representative from her class.

She also had a birthday that brought her into the double digits this last week. She got the big present that she has been wanting for years, a drum kit. Crazy I know. We are feeling unstable and poor and we get a drum kit.

It was because of Samuel and Elizabeth though. Elizabeth put in all the money she had left over after the camino. Samuel was the one that surprised me tho. I was at the music store looking for a snare and some drum sticks instead and Samuel was appauled.

"Mom, she needs a whole drum kit, not just a pathetic single drum and sticks, she has been wanting them forever. I have money. I have £50. Use it for her drums."

Dang, where did he get all that money. Honestly, I don't even know that he realized he was being generous, tho. We are fortunate in that our kids are not that materialistic. Samuel has been saving because there was nothing that he needed. Actually I guess that he hasn't been saving as much as he has been not spending. It is just money and now it is needed. With the kids coming up with almost half the money for the drums and the new band mentality this last year, how could I say no. Our house is now full of lots of loud queen with a second set of drums accompanying.

All kids are in school now. Tamara only for a couple of hours a day though. All having a great time. Summertime worries gone to the side. Elizabeth, "They'll call me shortie", had a growth spurt. Abigail, "Everyone says my new teacher is the strictest in the school". The jury is still out on this one. Tamara is just happy to finally be part of the school-going ritual and likes having her school backpack lined up with the others.

Dumping Ground

When my mom was surrounded with more chaos than usual she used to say, "I'm not sure if I'm coming or going". I sure feel that way now.

Not so much for the everyday. With the everyday I have refused to be stressed and adapted the laid back attitude of "I'll be there when I get there" which normally makes me late for everything.

It is tomorrow that has me stumped. We are leaving our rental house in October. We decided we shouldn't sign on for another whole year. It is a new one year, unbreakable lease for each year of really high rent to live in a furnished house we cant seem to make our own. We would take another few months here while we look around but not another year. It is time to start packing and organizing but not quite sure how to do that. Are we really making this trip to America this year? Will we be moving into a more permanent place or a "winter let"? What about our stuff? Why haven't any doors opened yet? Right now I am feeling that may have been a foolish decision and thinking I might just be saying that because I want to find another way to condemn myself.

So we are moving out.

I guess I feel like parts of my being, my soul are scattered all over the world. On one level that is good. I have dear friends all over the world and they hold part of me there with them. A part of me that springs to life when with a very close friend. But now I am feeling like all the different parts of me have been in a marathon race and the part of me that is in the lead needs to lay down under a large tree and wait for the rest of me to catch up.

In our most intense travelling time I have rarely lost the sense of "home". It is like God gave us the special grace for it. I felt sorry for those who were settled. When I began to feel scattered we would sit under that tree along the side of the race and wait for the rest to catch up. To feel whole again. To feel like a family again. We would stop for "as long as we needed" and sometimes that would only be for a couple of nights.

I have been asking God to let us "settle" for a bit. The three older kids have been asking for it. They have been enthusiastic about our crazy life and are now asking to stay put for a while. Elizabeth says she wants us to buy a house. You know alot of people we care about have been saying "New Season", "God wants you to buy", "He has a castle for you", "it is time to stay put for awhile".

Great.

How.

I feel like a beggar grasping for crumbs and building an inappropriate entire life vision on a single crumb.

We have nothing in the physical world and my faith is so weak.

Those who know me know a favourite past-time of mine is technicolour dreaming about the next stage. I am having none of those now.

I dreamt last night of barely escaping a bomb explosion with my family. Nobody else listened as me and Andrew yelled, but our kids. We stood just blocks from the explosion and went to the funerals afterwards.

I am losing my hope. Yesterday, after feeling like I wanted to become mist and an extended period of crying and feeling my hope waning I started whispering, "my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness". I sang out "on Christ the solid rock I stand!" to remind myself.

Have I lost the right direction? Am I asking for the wrong things? It isn't like God to be elusive like this. I know I believe that God is in control, even if it is just a whisper. Am I just being a pathetic twit? To lost in my perceptions and interpretations and lies that I cant see the truth. Is my patience so weak that I concoct my own realities and lean on them?

I am weak, so weak.

Finally back home with Elizabeth

A long trip, a very, very long trip. I am so tired. Near the end of the trip Tamsin asked me, "would you like an egg with your breakfast". Simple question. My honest response was, "You decide. I can't make any more decisions right now."

Left the house a couple Sundays ago with Hannah (the eldest young lady left at home) as the "Woman of the House". You could see her visibly getting taller as she pondered the thought. A smile across her entire face and faultless posture.

It was a women's trip, women celebrating, women transitioning, women growing, women becoming. Cherie, Jessica's car, faithfully carried us through every stage of the journey.

At first, it was about Whitney. We got to look at how women have lived in the highlands over the last 5000 years. We saw a 5000 year old stone village (Skara Brae), a 2-3000 year old viking house (Shamrock house), a 2-500 year old croft home (Kirbister farm museum), layed down in a bed of heather by the roadside, walked around Dunrobin castle and had Whitney at the airport in Glasgow with 3 hours to spare before her flight. We dropped Erika off in Edinborough on the way.

It was now just me and Shannon and Abigail. It was Shannon's personality shining through. We connected with people. We stopped in to see Bea, Andy and Robin in Sheffield and had a cuppa. Maggie and Phouc-Tan were waiting to prepare dinner for us and eat it with us, not expecting us til midnight.

Early next morning Phouc-Tan left for work and Maggie showed us around Cambridge for the day. They are such gracious hosts. We picked up Jules (Maggie and Cindy's sister) here and went to Shannon's studio in London to give Cherie a day of pampering. We saw Rob and Amy where he read the comment I wrote for one of the Doxology pieces, writing as a woman on the "woman at the well", that will be in the book they sell at the exhibitions (does this make me an almost published writer?). It was fun getting into an "artist zone" so I could interact adequately with the piece.

In the middle of the night Jules, Abigail and I left to catch the early morning "chunnel" to France. This stage was about Jules and her getting us to Cindy and Elizabeth. She was hosting this part of the excursion. We thought we would arrive in Paris with a day to spare sipping coffee in a sidewalk cafe. That was not to be. They couldn't get to Paris. How about Bilbao, Spain? Uh, OK, so 24 hours of almost non-stop driving we arrive in Bilbao. So much for the leisurely sipping.

However, isn't Bilbao home of the Guggenheim. Yeah baby! Now we're talking. Say hello to Frank O Gehry's bizarre architectural wonder and Richard Serra's "Matter of time" and inhale a bit of "Art Informal". So Jules has been wanting to see a few Aztec old things. How about half a dozen galleries of Aztec wonders. Well, we did stay a bit long and had to rush to the Train station to get Cindy and Elizabeth. Kinda cool the idea of all of us simultaneously racing to a spot halfway from Paris to Santiago. They seemed to glide off the train. Our Pilgrims.

We had a short presentation for them. Ornately beaded shoes to replace their worn hiking shoes, Embroidered scarves as coverings and dangly bracelets. All from our journey to find them.

And Elizabeth, I think she got taller. She looked like a young woman that could do anything.

On the way home we heard stories, continued to sleep in the small car (now more crowded) and listened to loud music. At one point I noticed Cherie leaning dramatically from one side to the other down the road while I was driving. Thought there was a bizarre problem with tires or suspension. Looked in the rearview mirror to see all the inhabitants of the back seat lurching from side to side in harmony while they sang/yelled with the songs.

On the more gentle side, we stopped at Monet's Garden. Who wanted that you may ask. Would you believe it if I said Cindy? Yes, she has frequently talked to her mom about Monet and his garden. She was the only one in the garden dressed all in flowing black.

Another highlight was bumper cars. We arrived early in the town our Chunnel train was to depart from to find the remnants of a festival. The best bumper cars ever. No dodge-em cars like our more passive cultures have but full on passionate, violent bumper cars. We all bear injuries from the bumper cars and none of us regret it.

After the Chunnel we drove to Chichester where Elizabeth and Abigail got to see some of their best friends, Tilly and Poppy. Cindy and Jules took Cherie to their Father's cousin's house and we jumped on a train early the next morning, heading for home. The train left at 5:20 and arrived in Aberdeen at 3:30 the same afternoon where we jumped on the 5:00 ferry to arrive in Orkney at 11:00 and slept. Zzzzzzzz.

Eliz on Camino

A very quiet morning. Just got back from Shetland late last nite. All still asleep all over the house. Came back with 3 extras. Shannon(Texas/London), Whitney(Texas) and Erika (Sweden). Thought I would put up a quick post about Elizabeth and Cindy as I didn't get to before we left. Got a text yesterday saying they were now in Villafranca del Bierzo. Had a really good day of walking and walked over 30 km. They still have no blisters (amazing). Seems they have only a week, or less, left. Making plans now on getting them back. I am planning on making it to London, at least, to go with her to visit a friend and spending the day on the train together from the bottom of england to the aberdeen ferry on the 16th. Me and Jules (Cindy's sister) have been looking at driving or flying from London to Spain to celebrate with them and bring them home. Not sure if financially viable option. Please pray for wisdom, the right decisions and unity in the process. The end of the Camino is a very important transistion and we want to do it right. BTW Cindy has some good thots on her blog from the Camino.