overwhelmed, but...

I am officially overwhelmed. Classes have now kicked into full gear, and I'm wondering how it will all get done on time, particularly since I am no spring chicken and cannot work past 10:00 p.m. Yesterday there was a student mixer (how is it that I am involved in "mixers" again??) with the 1st and 2nd year OTA students (my program), and the 2nd year students kept lamenting about how much harder the first year gets, though the 2nd year is supposed to be better! Um...not helpful. Thanks.

BUT...I am pleasantly surprised at how much I like the program I've chosen. I picked it because I was interested in it, but also just because I needed to become certified in something that would give me better job prospects, and I had to choose something I could study locally. There actually aren't very many OTA programs, so I'm fortunate that one of them is in Roanoke, because so far, my occupational therapy classes make me excited that I chose this path. Though I am unable to see how school and job and family are all going to play out, I am genuinely excited about becoming an occupational therapist.

It's gonna be a rough 2 years, but also a hopeful 2 years. I am thankful.

thursday thankfulness

• Mom is here! To watch The Boy during this first week of school because his school doesn't start until after Labor Day.
• My Girl loves, loves, LOVES her second grade teacher, even if she was initially disappointed that she didn't get "the man teacher" because, as she says, "I've had woman teachers my whole life!"
• My own classes seem manageable...so far. The real workload hits next week so maybe I'll be singing a different tune then, but for now, I'm feeling OK about the juggling for this semester.
• Facebook has a "hide" feature, which I may have to use liberally during the election season.
• My Boy's shaggy hair that curls when he gets hot.
• Food in the freezer.
• A flexible workplace.
• Some cooler weather.
• Beginning a new adventure outside of the church.
• A textbook that I actually find interesting.
• Living in a home, not a dorm.
• Being a "mature" (not old) student.
• A Man who does the laundry.
• Kids who run to me when I walk in the door.

I am blessed.

beginnings

Today My Girl and I start our new school year! The Girl woke up with a smile on her face and a spring in her step, ready and excited to start second grade.

I woke up with a headache and worry, feeling not-at-all ready or excited to start this 2-year marathon. Perhaps I should take some lessons from My Girl!

I'm hoping that by the end of the week, I'll feel better about what's coming. I believe this is the right place for me to be, but sometimes the right place is not the easy place.

But I am not alone in this place.



Here's to a new beginning...

thursday thankfulness

I find it difficult to read the news. I've been listening to NPR less and less. The incompetence, the tragedy, the stupidity, the despair, the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness - they overwhelm me.

My own incompetence and stupidity and despair and hopelessness - they overwhelm me, too.

And where is God in this? In the world? In me? I guess you could say I've been having a crisis of faith. I can tell you when it started, too - right in the middle of Lent. I suppose that's appropriate, except that Easter never came.

And yet, and yet...

Ann Voskamp says we should see the problem of good as well as the problem of evil. "If there is no God, why is there so much good?" (Augustine)

I am attuned to the problem of evil, but what about the problem of good? I don't notice it enough. Ironic, isn't it, that I named this blog "Bright Life" when I so often struggle to see the brightness. But I know that it's there. I know it. And I believe it will overcome the darkness. I choose to believe it. And I choose to name it. So here goes.

Some Thursday Thankfulness:

• Majestic mountains that remind me to look up and around.
• A small boy who puts his hand on my face.
• A big boy who comes home with a smile on his face.
• A girl who forgives.
• Kids who play and play and play together.
• A boy who is serious about his dancing.
• Knobby, multi-colored tomatoes.
• An unexpected breeze.
• A new kitchen toy.
• A family that enjoys being together.
• A girl who hugs with abandon.
• A small kitchen.
• Hope for tomorrow (and today).
• People, many people, who work to help the least of these.
• Education opportunity.
• Supportive husband.
• Huge hibiscus flower.
• White puffy clouds.
• Safety net.
• A movie that makes me laugh and cry.
• True love - not the kind that waits, but the kind that is ever-present.

making plans

I feel like I've entered a holding pattern. A couple weeks ago, I was gung-ho about making plans - for the family, for the kids, for the fall. Now I've just stopped. Because I'm waiting.

Waiting for the mad rush to hit. And hit it will - next week! School orientation - MY orientation - starts on Tuesday. And then the madness will truly begin.

So I'm holding onto the somewhat still moments right now. Somewhat, because I've still been spending lots of time in the kitchen, but that time of experimenting and planning for stream-lined whole foods production is in itself a kind of stillness. Even in the kitchen I am quiet and waiting and bracing myself for the onslaught of a new adventure.

Fortunately for me, the kiddoes have been playing amazingly well together. Oh, there are clashes, of course. But for long periods of time they travel into their own world of cars and fairies and birthdays and stories, needing very little intervention from me. Sometimes I start to feel guilty about my lack of activity-planning for them, but then I see how much fun they are having on their own! And I am thankful for it.

In these dog days of August, I feel like I've entered the last day of vacation. That day when I really want to relish in the fleeting moment but instead find myself bracing for departure.

In my head, I believe it's important for me to look ahead and make plans for our family. I believe it's important partly because if I don't make plans, I know the days are going to pass in a whirlwind of class and work and schoolwork and home-work, and those fleeting, all-important times of community and togetherness may get lost in the shuffle. I don't want that.

But I also don't know how to plan right now. I don't know how difficult balancing it all will be. Maybe I truly won't have time for any extras without losing my sanity. Maybe rest is the only thing I should plan. Or maybe I need to get out our calendar and start making plans.

Maybe. I don't know. And so I wait.